Integration
by Bane's Desire
Summary: Yaoi Trapped in an abusive relationship, a young man is unexpectedly awakened to his past and he begins the struggle to gain back what was unjustly taken from him. Not an A.U. story.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I don't own GW nor profit from this little time-eating hobby that repeatedly points out that you're only as good as your last posted chapter.

Warnings: yaoi, ncs, angst, plus Duo in various pairings.

Integration

Author: Bane's Desire

Prologue: News Report

**GUNDAM PILOTS TO UNDERGO EXPERIMENTAL INTEGRATION PROCEDURE**

_**The Sanq Courier**_

A surprising announcement was made today by the United Earth and Colony's Vice Foreign Minister, Relena Peacecraft, that the six individuals who piloted gundams during the two previous wars between the U.E.C. governing branch on earth and those in the colonies, have consented to the controversial procedure referred to within law enforcement circles as Integration.

Recent debates and heated arguments between the governments on Earth and the Colonies concerning the fate of the six is the deciding factor of this decision for the pilots known to the public as 01, 02, 03, 04, 05 and Colonel Zech Marquis, pilot of the gundam Epyon. Six months after these six thwarted Diekum Barton's attempted coup, many governments on Earth have petitioned to the newly formed U.E.C. Government to arrest and bring to trial the pilots who caused so much destruction and death to their countrymen, most of whom were members of the Alliance or OZ military organizations. The colonies have taken an exception to those petitions, sending their own representatives to argue on behalf of the gundam pilots, boldly declaring that if the pilots currently under house arrest in the palace of the Sanq Kingdom are brought to trial and imprisoned, that such action will bring them to the brink of war with Earth once again.

Developed in the United States by Doctors Abraham Harding and Rowan McBride, the Integration procedure was developed on the theory that if a hardened criminal's memories could be erased and replaced with false memories of having a more normal upbringing, coupled with an implanted desire to be a law-abiding citizen, the prisons could be emptied when the former criminals would be set free to become productive citizens. This theory was made into a viable treatment with the development of the drug, animoxidol which is used in conjunction with sodium amitol, a drug often used in mental health circles to restore repressed memories. The drugs are used in tandem with sodium amitol lowering the mind's resistance and then the animoxidol is administered as an aid to erase past identities, or undesirable parts of one's past without eliminating basic knowledge the subject has acquired. Hypnosis and visual stimuli are both implemented to implant the fabricated identities.

The procedure was developed by Harding and McBride as a way to counteract the rise in crime within the U.S., leading to an overwhelming number of convicted inmates being housed within the prison system, taxing the American economy more heavily with each passing year.

The first prisoner to volunteer for the treatment did so in AC 194, his identity was withheld from public records, but the reports made public regarding the procedure stated that the integration was a success. The American Civil Liberties Union was quick to file a complaint in the thirteenth Circuit Court of San Francisco a month later, stating the procedure to be unconstitutional, violating the man's civil rights and citing that the subject was put through the Integration process only after being coerced to do so. The court responded by putting a block on future treatments until an official decision was rendered. Two years later, the case was settled with a judgment that the state of California was at fault for not having proper documentation stating the subject's expressed permission to undertake the procedure. That ruling resulted in the mandatory filing of legal papers, drawn up in behalf of the subject undergoing the procedure, requiring said person to sign an 'Agreement For Treatment' document with no less than two witnesses present, stating that the individual agreed to the Integration without coercion.

The young Vice Foreign Minister stood looking calm and composed before a room filled with dignitaries from Earth's governments and the Colonies, dressed in an off-white suit as she spoke highly of the six young men, stating that the young gundam pilots would once more be making a sacrifice for the cause of peace between the Earth and Colonies. She stated that the six did not want the peace they'd fought so hard for in the past to be shattered for their own sakes. Miss Peacecraft also put forward that the Integration procedure, though controversial and never before utilized in Sanq, was agreed to by the Earth Sphere's government who also announced that it would immediately drop all criminal charges against the six. The colonies also agreed to the procedure, albeit reluctantly, with the condition that one of their representatives be given the opportunity to speak with the six former pilots to assure the colonists that they were agreeing to the procedure of their own free will.

News of this announcement has spread quickly and is received as welcomed news from those living on the Earth and in the Colonies, fearing the impasse concerning the six pilots would cause yet another costly and deadly war.

Miss Peacecraft added that the procedure would take several weeks to complete, after which the six would remain anonymous, allowed to live their lives as law abiding, tax paying citizens, ignorant of their violent pasts. No date was announced as to when the Integration procedure will begin, though Miss Peacecraft hinted that it would be within a very short period of time.

On to Chapter one...


	2. Living the Nightmare

**Integration**

By: Bane's Desire

Warnings: This story is a bit different and will probably confuse you as you slowly become aware of the main character's plight as he, himself, awakens to the true reason for his unhappy state. Hang in there, it becomes more clear as each chapter progresses. There is yaoi in this story, angst, NCS, and various pairings. This story is set after Endless Waltz and is not an AU story nor a death fic!

**Chapter One: Living The Nightmare**

The slap of his face and his hands as they hit the cold, wet shower tiles seemed overly loud to him, but he knew this rough treatment at the hand of his lover was merely a prelude to what was coming next. He closed his eyes, utterly detesting his life and hating the man pressing his naked body against his own.

"Why am I doing this?" The deep familiar voice in his left ear asked the question in a menacing manner just a scant second before his right ear was harshly grabbed and pulled, forcing him to expose the left side of his neck. Lips latched onto the exposed skin and they were almost instantly replaced by the feel of teeth that began to sink into the tender skin. And just like he knew they would, they paused momentarily, a reprieve he knew his attacker allowed only as he waited for an answer his question.

"Because I was late," he answered, sickened at hearing how pathetically shaky his voice sounded. From past experiences, he'd learned from the man threatening him that there was never a legitimate excuse for breaking one of the many rules imposed on him. The punishments from even an unintentional infraction were usually immediate and harsh. It looked like tonight he would suffer his tormenter's favorite form of penalization: rape.

He experienced a brief moment of relief when his abused ear was released, but his body tensed again, still pinned firmly against the tile wall as the other man's hand began to slide with deliberate slowness over his shoulder, building the fear within him as it moved down his arms and slid over to his hips. He knew what was about to happen, he'd endured such punishments at least once a month no matter how well he tried to behave. Even with that knowledge, he resolved not to resist or fight back. Hell, he'd learned that lesson early on and suffered the consequences from when he'd tried to defend or protect himself from the abuse. The consequences didn't always come from his lover either. It was his own body that consistently failed and betrayed him on those rare times when he'd had enough and made an attempt to defend himself as he was being abused. After failing, succumbing to the pain in his body, his so-called lover usually proved to be heartless and even more brutal in his punishments.

Large, rough hands continued the path from his hips to his spine and traced without tenderness the crevice there. "Why were you late?" The lips, still pressed against his neck, moved a bit lower, a constant presence against his skin as his abuser spoke. Then suddenly, without warning, the dreaded teeth clamped down and bit the exposed skin at the juncture where his shoulder and neck met.

Gasping from the pain, he had to force himself to answer. "I had to stay late at work and missed the bus," he cried out, his eyes tearing. "I didn't have enough money for a cab so I walked home." Relief finally came as the teeth were removed.

"You couldn't have asked someone for a ride?"

He tried to shake his head in reply, but the position of his face, plastered against the shower wall, prohibited the movement. His tormentor then moved his mouth to another area of his neck and pressed his teeth against that yet unmarred area of skin as he waited for his answer.

"Everyone was already gone," he replied in a rush. "I had to make some last minute calls for Mr. Krantz for the office Christmas party."

"You know the rules."

He shuddered. Of course he knew the damn rules. They'd been drilled and beaten into him for longer than he cared to remember. He closed his eyes and tried to relax his body as his legs were pried apart and a soap slicked finger was forcefully pushed inside of him. He was not going to cry out, he determined stubbornly. He would not give the bastard behind him the satisfaction.

He pressed his lips tightly together, sucking in his lower lip to keep from crying out while pushing the pain at his anus to the back of his mind as he focused instead on his ever-burgeoning hate for his so-called lover. He'd used that term loosely for a long time now, having only a vague recollection of why he was in this abusive and seemingly inescapable relationship, the memory that answered that question seemed almost like a dream, dulled by years of fear and pain.

His vaguely recalled his initial attraction to the Japanese man, drawn instantly to him by his exotic looks and obvious physically fit body. His abuser had been and still was proud of his own body, with ripped muscles that had been sculpted from countless hours of rigorous workouts. It was that cursed body that had initially appealed to him as was the way the older man bore himself with an air of dignity and self confidence that he, himself, had always lacked. They'd met at the University, though his lover wasn't attending classes, merely visiting a friend. The man appeared to be instantly attracted to him as well and began to actively pursue him. He'd more or less been swept off his feet by the Japanese man who wined and dined him for over a month. He remembered thinking that everything seemed perfect, that his life was finally falling into place after the death of his parents. It was at the end of that blissful, romantic month that he spent the night at the other's apartment and gave up his virginity to him. Shortly after, at his lover's insistence, he also gave up going to school and moved in with the other man to begin a life together.

A small sound, just short of a moan, escaped his throat as his body was further violated. A whisper in the deep recesses of his mind sarcastically remarked that it wasn't as bad as usual, that his rapist boyfriend must have used more soap to ease his entry; how considerate. He duly noted that his sarcastic side came out at odd times.

The bruising grip on his waist tightened, and with each painful upward thrust into his body his hated grew. If he ever loved his abuser, that feeling was long gone. Springing uninvited to his mind came a mental picture of ways in which he could end the abuse. He knew he had only to raise his foot and smash it down onto the top of the other's vulnerable foot to break the fragile bones there in order to get an immediate reaction. If he moved quickly enough after that, he could use the same foot to land a kick to the knee that was currently holding his thighs apart, effectively crippling the other man. Then spinning, he could land his fingers, the palm of his hand or a closed fist to the man's trachea, crushing it, resulting in his abuser being brought to a state of unconsciousness and unable to breath. Unfortunately, the self-defense lessons, taught at work, were only put into action within his mind.

The brief mental image of taking down the man behind him, lasting no more than a few seconds, brought about the pain that always accompanied his violent and dark thoughts regarding his abuser. He slid his hands down from off the tile to clutch at his aching chest. The doctor said the pain came from a weak heart, a condition he'd suffered since childhood but had only become noticeable as he grew older and was put into more stressful situations. The pain was crippling and his knees buckled under him in reaction to it. Slowly, he began to slip down to his knees, regardless of the hands bruising his hips and the instrument of pain jammed inside him.

"Stop! My heart!" he gasped in pain as his knees crashed to the shower floor, the sharp ache in his chest blinding him to the fact that the invading member that had been in his body was gone. Tears leaked from his eyes, mingling with the water from the shower above and behind him. He curled his body into a ball on the tiled floor, trying to deal with the pain and instinctively trying to protect himself from whatever the man behind him might decide to do to him for interrupting his punishment.

"Stop it," the angry voice barked from above him.

Pulling into a tighter fetal position, the spray of water from the showerhead fell onto his head and shoulders. "My pill," he managed to gasp in a hoarse, ragged whisper as his heart threatened to pound out of his chest.

The other man snorted with disgust as he turned and left the shower stall. A moment later the sound of the squeaky medicine cabinet door being opened could be heard. Even with the sound of his heart beating unbearably loud in his ears, he still managed to hear the other man say, "I should just let you suffer."

He wouldn't beg any further, he decided. He might not be able to leave the abusive relationship he was in, but he had some small amount of pride left. Even if it killed him he wouldn't let the other man break him completely. That last thought only intensified the pain in his body and he cried out despite his intentions not to. Suicidal thoughts also seemed to cripple his body with pain.

He felt fingers fumbling at his lips and a pill he knew was small and white was pressed between them; the relief was almost instantaneous. The sharp ache in his chest lessened dramatically and his breathing became a bit easier.

"Clean yourself up and go to bed," the other man ordered. "No dinner for you tonight."

The slam of the bathroom door was no surprise, but it made the pitiful man, still lying on the shower floor, flinch. Taking a few moments to compose himself, he stood on thin, shaky legs and finished rinsing off his hair and body, a task that had been violently interrupted. Trembling hands turned off the spray of water, and holding onto the wall, he cautiously climbed out through the frosted shower doors to grab a towel with which he used to quickly dry himself off, wincing at the pain radiating from his posterior as a result of the other man's abuse.

Once dry, he took the corner of his towel and wiped off the moisture from off the fogged mirror. Standing in front of the sink, he looked into the reflecting glass to assess the damage to his face and body. His body, of course, would be bruised in the morning, that was a given after one of his so-called punishments. He leaned forward to examine his upper lip, split and swollen, his initial punishment for returning home late from work. After picking himself up from the living room floor, he had immediately been order to go to the bathroom and take a shower where he received his formal punishment. His lip looked as ugly as it was painful, he thought. That was going to be hard to explain at work in the morning. Deb was going to give him a bad time and hound him again to call the authorities concerning the abuse he regularly suffered from his lover.

He sighed, knowing it didn't matter what she said. He knew she was right, that he didn't deserve to be beaten and raped like this on a regular basis; but he couldn't leave. Each time he threatened or even seriously contemplated leaving in the wake of the violence, he'd experienced a panic attack that effectively crippled him and left him helpless to defend himself from the other violent man.

His eyes strayed to his left wrist, to his ultimate attempt at escaping his miserable life. But the first slash of the razor blade to his wrist resulted in one of his frequent debilitating attacks and he was discovered before he could attempt to finish the job.

Gazing back to the mirror and to his reflection, he looked at himself with the same sense of disgust that he'd heard in the other man's voice. His frail health and panic attacks kept him in the role of victim, and he despised himself for it. Narrowing his green tinted eyes, he sneered in a whispered voice to his reflection, "I hate you... almost as much as I hate him." His eyes strayed to the ugly, red teeth marks at the base of his neck, and thought that at least his shirt would cover that mark. "That bastard," he hissed just under his breath while studying the damage.

Reaching his hands up, he put a finger to the corner of his eye and with his other hand, caught the green contact lens as he popped it out. He set it into its open case and repeated the process to take out the other one as well. He supposed if he were to look for the silver lining in his miserable existence, it would be in form of gratitude that the fist that had connected with his face hadn't hit any higher. As a rule, his tormentor was generally careful to only hurt him in places that weren't visible to others or anywhere that might cause permanent damage. A broken contact in his eye would definitely be cause for a visit to the hospital and the unwanted questions that would follow.

With his contacts put securely in their case, he looked up again and ran his fingers through his hair that his keeper insisted he keep short. It grew so fast that he needed a trip to the barber every couple of weeks. He hated keeping it so short, feeling the style left him looking unattractive and exposed.

Knowing he couldn't do anything about it, he sighed and took out his toothbrush and paste and began the task of brushing his teeth. During the process he avoided looking at his reflection, specifically his eyes. For some unknown reason, looking into his own eyes, an odd blue, almost violet color, caused his chest to constrict tightly, so he purposely kept from looking into them. He'd had enough pain for one day.

He didn't put a towel around his waist for modesty's sake or place the clothing he'd worn earlier back on his body. His sense of modesty had long been stripped from him and he was never allowed to wear anything to bed. He walked the short distance from the bathroom to the bedroom, keeping an ear out for any sound of the other man. The faint sounds of the television came from the living room and he hoped it occupied his abuser's thoughts for few hours. He entered the shared bedroom and felt a moment's relief in seeing that it was empty.

Turning off the bedroom light, he managed to make his way to the bed in the dark, then pulled back the covers and climbed onto the queen-sized mattress. He lay down on his assigned side of the bed and stayed as close as possible to the edge as he pulled the covers up to his chin, willing himself to fall asleep before the other man came to bed.

Sleep, it seemed, was the only peace he had left. His time at work was hectic and demanding, though the people he worked with were nice enough and he'd even made a good friend with a sympathetic ear. It was his supposed love life that was a mess. No, it was a literal nightmare, one he couldn't seem to escape.

On the edge of sleep, his body tensed and brought him to full wakefulness when he felt the shift of the mattress and heard the slight squeak of the box spring as the other man climbed into bed with him.

A naked body pressed up against his back and a possessive arm wrapped around his chest to hold him in place.

"Feeling better?" The tone of the other man's voice displayed his lack of concern.

"A little," he replied meekly, knowing that not answering would result in some negative repercussion.

"I just worry about you," the voice in his ear spoke insincerely. "Don't break the rules and I won't have to punish you."

"I'll be good," was his weak reply, a nightly promise. He knew even as he spoke them, that his trite, repetitious words did not speak the truth. He pushed at the restrictive rules, sometimes gathering up the nerve to even break them, just to prove to himself that the other man hadn't broken him, that he had some small amount of free will left. He could have hitched a ride home or bummed a couple of dollars off some of the people he'd come to know that worked in businesses near his place of employment, but that stubborn side of him that refused to buckle under the other man's rigid rules wanted to show a bit of defiance by taking the long walk home. In doing so, he knew full well that he'd be punished for being late. At the time, the extra hour and a half of peace and freedom seemed well worth his punishment. Now he wasn't so sure.

The same hands that had bruised his flesh a short time ago, once again began to stroke his back, causing a shiver of revulsion to shoot up his spine.

"I'll make you breakfast in the morning." The warm breath on his neck did nothing to warm him as the hands moved down his back, rippling against his ribs on their way to his hips. "You're losing weight again," the other man continued, still too close. "You'll have to eat more because I don't want Dr. Clark breathing down my neck about it."

Feeling a pull on his hip, he allowed himself to be turned over to lay on his back, his tormentor leaning over him. The Japanese man's face was barely visible in the dim light that came from the alarm clock and moonlight streaming through the window blinds. The shadow of the dark, thick hair stuck out at odd angles after having gotten wet in the unfinished shower. He couldn't see the eyes staring down at him, probably contemplating his next punishment. He knew those hateful brown orbs would probably reign over his nightmares after he fell asleep.

"Good night, Jason," the man said a moment before he swooped down for a kiss that wasn't harsh but neither was it tender. Thankfully, it was short.

"Night, Scott," he replied in a timid voice, knowing his response was what the other man expected. He was then released and allowed to return to his original position, curled on his side at the edge of the bed where he hoped and prayed to find the freedom he craved which, at this point in his life, only sleep could bring.

Continued soon.


	3. A Can of Worms

Warnings and Disclaimers on page one. If you haven't read the first two parts, you're going to be quite lost.

**Integration**

**By: Bane's Desire**

**Part 2 - A Can Of Worms**

Waking brought with it a long yawn and an aching stretch, one which brought out the pain from bruises he'd gained the night before.

"Come on, Jason. You're going to be late for work if you don't hustle." Scott always managed to put a bit of warmth into his irritated voice in the mornings, he thought bitterly. The warmth he'd decided long ago was fake, the irritation was real enough. "Breakfast is in five minutes."

Knowing the Japanese man's eyes were fixed on him, he nodded as he moved towards the dresser and from out of the top drawer he removed his boxers, tee shirt and socks. Evidently satisfied at the progress he was making, his zookeeper left him to dress. Moving slowly to the closet, he picked out a dark blue oxford shirt and tan pleated pants for the day. He returned to the bed and put his selections on it, then began to dress, starting with his boxer briefs and t-shirt as sounds of cooking filtered into the bedroom from the kitchen.

Fully dressed, he made a quick trip to the bathroom where he washed his face and brushed his teeth. He ran the electric razor over the stubble on his face, a tool of convenience that never seemed to cut close enough. He sighed looking at the less effective shaver. It wasn't his favorite way of getting rid of his morning growth of beard, but after slashing his wrist a year and a half ago, razors were forbidden in the apartment.

His reflection in the mirror showed him last night's damage to his face. He shook his head, feeling ill at the sight of the dark bruise on his cheek where he'd been slammed into the shower wall and the ugly split lip where Scott had sucker punched him when he entered the apartment. He was going to have a very hard time explaining the visible bruises to his co-workers, many of whom gave him knowing looks of sympathy and pity when he offered them one lame excuse after another for the frequent bruises that appeared on his face.

Leaving the bathroom, he trudged to the kitchen and sat down at the table without looking at the other man who was busy at the stove.

"Quit sulking," the older man ordered a moment later as he turned to place a plate of food in front of him. A cup of coffee and a glass of juice followed and he picked up the steaming mug and sipped at its hot contents. If there was anything he could appreciate about the other, it was the fact that he made a great cup of coffee. Despite the pain from his wounded lip, a purr of contentment came from him as the hot, dark liquid pleased his taste buds.

Scott chuckled as he sat in his place on the opposite side of the small table. Blue-violet eyes rose to meet brown and the Japanese man frowned. "Don't forget your contacts," Scott reminded him. His frown deepened as he stared at the abused face. "What are you going to say at work to explain your face?"

Shrugging, he replied in the quiet voice his lover preferred. "I don't know. I'm running out of excuses. It's pretty clear they don't believe me any more, no matter what excuse I give."

"Maybe it's time to change jobs."

The suggestion troubled him more than he dared to let on. If Scott knew he'd grown attached to anyone, that he'd made a close friend at the office, he'd make him quit anyway. Looking over his mug of coffee, he churned up enough courage to say something. "I like my job and co-workers," he began. "You just need to stop smashing my face with your fist." He knew the moment the words passed his lips that he was treading a dangerous line, one that he precariously balanced on every day with the decade-older, volatile man sitting across from him.

The room went silent and the cinnamon-haired man tried to hide his nervousness at having been so bold by picking up his fork and cutting into his eggs. Surprisingly, no reprimand or physical retribution came as the two ignored each other as their meal continued in silence.

Finishing off his juice, the daily five dollar bill was slapped down onto the laminate table top. "Don't be late again," the Japanese man strongly admonished as he rose from his chair and took up the two empty plates.

"The office Christmas party is in two days," he reminded the other.

"You're not going."

Blinking his eyes in surprise of that statement, he looked up to his lover's stiff back. "But I've had it on the calendar for a month," he complained. "I have to go. The department head put me in charge of it and I need to be there to make sure it runs smoothly."

"I'm sure it will run fine without you."

Standing, he went to the other man and stood by his side at the sink and watched as Scott rinsed off the dishes. "Please, Scott, I have to be there. If I'm not, they'll wonder what happened to me. It starts an hour after work and goes until ten. I'll take a cab and be home by ten thirty. I promise, I'll come straight home."

The other man continued to put the dishes into the dishwasher, seeming oblivious to his plea. He had to try again to convince him of the importance of his going. "I've worked hard on this, Scott. I'm trying to prove myself at the office so I can get a promotion. I might even get a raise. It's important that I go and that the party goes off without a hitch."

The other man gave a weary sigh, as if he'd been heavily put upon by his pleading. "Alright. You can go. But I expect you to keep your word and be home by ten thirty." He turned to look into the face of the smaller man, his expression and hardened brown eyes telling him what he could expect if he didn't live up to his promise. Then a snide smile rose on the face he'd once thought was handsome. He felt a hand stroke the front of his pants suggestively. "I'll expect you to do something for me in exchange," Scott said in what was supposed to be a seductive tone of voice. He didn't think anything his tormentor said or did could ever turn him on again, not after the pain inflected on him by those same hands.

Knowing he had little choice in the matter, because Scott would take what he wanted from him whether he chose to give it or not, he nodded his head in agreement, bringing a lecherous grin to the other man's face. He knew without asking that Scott wanted some sexual favor from him, and if he was lucky, he'd get by with giving him a blow job. He hadn't been able to achieve an erection for his lover for the past year, though that fact didn't stop Scott from taking him on a regular basis.

"Give me a kiss and go to work," Scott said as he lowered his head, waiting for the demanded affection.

Leaning up, he placed a chaste kiss on the other man's mouth, not surprised to find himself grabbed and pulled close while a tongue was forced into his mouth and thoroughly explored it before he was let go. Without looking at his captor, he turned, grabbed the five dollars off the table and left the room without looking back.

"Don't forget your contacts and your lunch by the door. I'll see you at six thirty," Scott called after him.

After a quick trip to the bathroom for the contacts, he grabbed his heavy coat, his sack lunch Scott made for him every day and left the apartment as quickly as possible and ran to the elevator. Nine hours without his tormentor breathing down his neck was like a furlough from prison, he thought. Checking his watch, he saw that he had ten minutes to catch his bus. With luck, the traffic would be on his side for once and he could get to work before his co-workers, allowing him time to hide in his cubicle before anyone saw the damage to his face. How he was going to explain the bruise and cut lip was something he would have to come up during the thirty minute bus ride.

"Jason Phillips! What the hell is that on your face?"

He instantly recognized the voice of his friend and co-worker, Debra Davis. He'd been hoping to avoid her that day, but luck was rarely on his side in helping him stay out of trouble. "Hi Deb," he replied softly, his face still down, giving others the impression that he was studying his lunch.

"Jay?" He could hear her footsteps as well as the note of concern in her voice as she drew near the table located in the back of the lunch room where he'd gone to hide himself. Out of the corner of his lowered eyes he saw the bright yellow sneakers she had favored over the last two weeks as they came into view, then stopped as she stood next to him. He heard her gasp as she realized what the odd marks on his face were. "Oh god, not again." There was anger in her voice as she crouched down, putting her face into his line of vision and studied the full extent of the damage. Her dark-skinned hand came to his chin and tilted it upward. As she studied his damaged face, her eyes filled with unshed tears. The petite African American woman then let go of his face, pulled the adjacent chair closer to him and sat down in it, her eyes fixed on him the entire time. "Shit, Jay. What did you do this time? Forget to put the cap on the toothpaste?" The anger in her voice matched the pinched, unhappy expression on her face.

Noticing that the other employees in the break room had turned their attention towards them to see what the young woman was upset about, he turned and lowered his face away from their prying eyes. "Please, Deb, don't draw attention to me. Scott will make me quit my job if this gets reported."

"That son of a bitch deserves to rot in jail for what he does to you," she spat while managing to keep her voice low as he'd requested.

He didn't know what to say to that, he'd held his opinions to himself for so long that he was afraid to express out loud that he completely agreed with her.

"Tell me again why you put up with this shit?" she demanded.

"He takes care of me," he replied unconvincingly.

"Like hell he does."

"Listen, Deb. Like I told you before, I can't leave. I just can't," he answered her, his own frustration becoming evident. "I hate him," he hissed, careful to keep his voice down. "But I can't leave. I don't know why I'm incapable of getting out, running away or just killing him. Who's the more despicable of the two of us, Deb, the abuser or me, the masochistic weakling?" His self loathing was more than evident from his question to his only true friend.

"You're not that!" she declared and her dark hand came to rest on his pale one, the contrast of their skin symbolized the differences in their personality. She was small in stature but a fire ball of strength, something he seemed to lack. Her hand gave his a reassuring squeeze. "I'm sure there's something in your life, some traumatic event that's given you these panic attacks. That's the real reason you're still there, isn't it?" Her dark brown eyes, filled with compassion, were so different from the other brown eyes that tormented him daily. He could tell from her searching gaze that she was searching for the true reason why he couldn't leave the bastard he lived with.

He gave her a nod of his head, agreeing that her guess was as good as any that he'd come up with on his own. "That and my heart," he replied. "Who would ever want me knowing I have a bad heart. If nothing else, Scott takes care of me. He cooks my meals, has Dr. Clark come monthly, and keeps my medicine on hand for when I have my attacks."

"And you consider that an even trade for the abuse you suffer from him?" she asked, obviously hoping to help her friend out of the abusive relationship that tormented his life. He could see that she was frustrated with him and just about ready to knock some sense into him herself; but she just didn't understand.

"No," he whispered. "But if I even think of leaving, I panic. My heart nearly slams out of my chest."

"I think you need help, Jason. A psychiatrist could maybe unlock the reason for your inability to leave him. And maybe you should see another doctor about your heart condition, get a second opinion. There could be some new procedure or medication that's been developed that could help. We have great insurance benefits here. It probably wouldn't cost you much."

He shook his head, knowing better. "He'd never let me go to a shrink. You know how he controls every aspect of my life. He would never want a professional, let alone anyone else, knowing what goes on in our apartment." With a look of sad resignation on his face, he lowered his head to rest it on his arms, folded on top of the table. "If he ever found out I'd talked so openly and frankly to you about my situation, I'm afraid of what he'd do. You could be in danger, Deb, and that's the last thing I want to happen."

"What could he do to me, Jay? I've got a boyfriend that's a linebacker for the Bears and could break his pencil neck in a second if he looked at me cross eyed."

He sat up straight, his green-tinted eyes flashed with fear as he answered her. "He's strong, Deb, and vicious. Don't underestimate him. I know he's more than what he seems, that he isn't just an insurance agent. He's smart, shifty, and conniving, and I've realized that after all this time, I still don't know much about him. I don't really know where he works or how he gets enough money for our up-scale apartment or the designer clothing he wears. My paycheck isn't enough to make the rent much less pay for the other monthly expenses. He's home when I leave for work and there when I return. He controls almost every aspect of my life and I'm stuck with him because of my attacks."

"Did you ever love him?" Deb asked, a look of pity entering her brown eyes.

Closing his eyes, memories from when he'd first met the other man came forward. "We had a wild attraction to one another at first," he replied, sadly wistful. "I'd just started college, a year after my parents were killed in a car crash. He was good to me then, kind and generous during a time when I was alone and lonely. It wasn't until I left school, at his suggestion, and moved in with him that things began to change." He opened his eyes and stared at the unfinished sandwich before him. "He moved us to another city and began to put me on a schedule, saying I needed structure. At first I thought he was just showing his love for me, but the first time I failed to report home after a job interview I learned first hand about the punishments that followed breaking the rules. That first time he just slapped me around, but as time went by the punishments became more progressively violent. I think he learned along the way that he liked hurting me."

Pushing his lunch aside, he folded his arms on the table and rested his head on them again, keeping his eyes focused on his friend. "We had been a couple in every sense of the word then, but the beatings became brutal and then, after several months, the bastard decided raping me was a better form of punishment." Moisture filled his eyes in recalling the vile turn of his once promising relationship. "I tried to fight back, but my heart reacted violently. It paralyzed me and I thought I was going to die. I remember curling up and begging Scott to help me." He made a sound of disgust. "It didn't faze him one bit, he continued until he was done, despite my condition and only gave me my pill when he'd finished." Pained eyes narrowed at the memory. "I think that was the day my love for him turned to hate, and it's been festering inside of me ever since."

He then closed his tormented eyes, trying desperately to gain control over his emotions and despising himself for being such a weakling.

"It's not your fault, Jas, that he's an abusive ass hole. And if I had my druthers, I'd chop off his hands and castrate him for what he's done to you."

"I've thought of ways to hurt him, even kill him," he admitted darkly, his voice just barely above a whisper. "But every time I do..." His chest began to hurt again as images that had entered his mind the night before of hurting the man he despised and hated came back to him. He moved one of his arms to let his hand clutch at his chest.

"Don't think about it," Deb's concerned voice sounded in his ear and he felt her arm come around his shoulder to give him what support she could.

He turned his eyes to her, not able to hold back the feelings of pain and distress he was experiencing. "Oh God," he hissed, his eyes watering from both sensations.

"Think of something else," she suggested in a quiet voice. "How are the preparations for the party going? Did you get a hold of the hypnotist?"

Shifting his thoughts to the party seemed to help ease the pain, and though his voice came out shaky he felt somewhat better from the distraction. "I.. I called him last night just after work to remind him of the day and place. He'll arrive just after dinner and promises to 'wow' us."

Debra's smile seemed a bit forced as she replied somewhat enthusiastically. "He'll be great, Jas. Wait until you see his act. He performed at a party I went to and he had some high and mighty judge crowing like a chicken. I can't wait to see what he does with Mr. Harris or that jerk, Lile."

The last name she spoke of brought a shared look of disgust between the two friends. Kevin Lile was a co-worker that definitely had an attitude when it came to Jason Phillips. Whether he was a homophobe or begrudged good-looking short guys, it seemed he was determined to make life miserable for Jason Phillips. One of the other workers had witnessed Mr. Lile in action and reported his antagonistic behavior towards the timid Mr. Phillips to the head of their department, Mr. Krantz. The result was a warning on his work record and the two avoided men each other as much as possible after that.

"I think we should suggest to Mr. Hannible that he try to find the thin person screaming to get out of the glutenous life form," Deb said with humor twinkling in her eyes. She'd shared her theory with him that Lile had one of those stereotypical obese person's attitude, one that she'd seen in her own rather large-bodied family. She declared that in her families case, the bigger the person the greater the belligerent attitude. He wasn't sure he wanted to pigeonhole a group of people like that because he'd met some people of large proportions who had been kind to him. But when it came to bull-dog face Lile, Deb seemed right on the mark.

"Do you really believe he can hypnotize people, or is it staged?" he asked her, changing the subject and feeling much better now that his chest had stopped aching.

"I used to think so," she replied. "But when I saw him hypnotize that judge, I became a believer. The man was as conservative as they come and would never have acted as foolishly as he did in front of a room of his peers and strangers."

"Well, I just hope he's as entertaining as you say because his fee is pretty steep," he said, slightly worried about the expense and hoping the fee for the evening's entertainment was justified.

"Don't worry, he'll be worth it. I promise you, it's going to be something we'll remember for a long time after the holidays are over, judging from the performance I saw."

"Good," he answered, feeling relieved that at least one of his recent decisions had been a good one. He gave his friend a grateful smile, realizing how much he depended on her to lift his spirits when things were so depressingly gray. He not only liked her, but he also admired her. Debra stood at a height of only five foot one and was slight of build. Her black hair was styled into seemingly hundreds of small, tight braids that fell like a beaded curtain from the top of her head to her shoulders. He always thought her hair was beautiful. Yet as small as she appeared, Debra Davis had the personality and drive of a car salesman working solely on commission. She was confident and assertive and more or less forced her friendship on him shortly after he'd started working at the frantic-paced department of motor vehicles. Little did he know at the time that her friendship was the best thing to happen to him in a very long time. She brought out the best of him and made him feel like more than the frightened mouse that Lile used to call him.

When his boss had asked for a volunteer to organize the staff Christmas party, he was more surprised than anyone to have raised his hand, encouraged to do so by his only friend who promised to help him in any way possible. He was certain a little bit of Deb's more outgoing personality had rubbed off on him as he made calls to the caterers and hotel where he made the room arrangements, and then pulled together the entertainment, having heard of the hypnotist from Deb herself.

Noticing the time on the clock set high upon the lunchroom wall, he was immediately distracted from his thoughts. His lunch break was over. Quickly gathering up the remains of his meal and the empty cup that had earlier held water, he suddenly stopped, remembering something. He reached into his pocket and brought out his five dollar bill and handed it to his friend.

"It's adding up," she said, taking the bill and putting it into her own pocket.

"That should be about twelve hundred now, right?" he asked.

"More like fifteen," she replied.

For over a year she'd taken his daily allowance given to him by Scott, plus any extra he'd come by and saved it for him. It was obvious that she detested the man he lived with and that she was determined to help him. She did so by matching each five dollar bill he'd given her, doubling his savings. He'd protested at first when he learned of it, but she insisted that it was what friends did for each other. They both called it his nest egg. Scott would have a fit if he even suspected he was saving his spending money. The Japanese man took his paycheck twice a month, purportedly paying the bills with it. He resented it but there was nothing he could do about it, so he saved on the side. Just knowing that he had a bit of money tucked away gave him a small sense of control and power that was otherwise missing from his life.

"I'll give you a ride home tonight, all right?" Debra said as he pushed the garbage into the trash can.

"That would be great. Thanks, Deb," he replied with a smile that was readily reciprocated.

The young woman shook her head and brought her hand up to rest against his pale skin. "You're amazingly attractive, Jason, despite your frequently battered face. With your looks and that disarming smile, you could have anyone. Dump that loser you're with, just walk away. You can do so much better."

He gave her a sad smile, appreciating her words but knowing his appearance didn't change his circumstance one bit. "I'll see you at break," he said, then turned and left the room, feeling the weight of her worried stare on his back.

The full buffet served at the annual Christmas party for the Illinois Department of Motor Vehicles, Chicago's North Office, seemed exceptional that year. There was plenty of good food to go around and everyone in attendance seemed pleased with the fare. Even the coffee that was served after the dessert trays had been passed around was delicious. After finishing his chocolate mousse, Jason Phillips stood from his chair located next to his friend and co-worker, looking uncertain after all eyes turned to him expectantly as he introduced the evening's entertainment. The wounds on his face were still healing and he was more than aware of the whispered speculation going on around him as to the reason for it.

Earlier, he had greeted and introduced himself to Duane Hannible immediately after dinner had concluded. He decided that the man's appearance was much different than what he'd expected. He found himself shaking hands with a tall, thin, dark-haired man with a narrow, sharp-angled face who looked to be around thirty years old. He was dressed in an expensive black suit but still looked more like a computer geek than an entertainer. Though the man seemed nice enough and conducted himself in a professional manner, he worried that maybe he wasn't going to prove as entertaining as Deb had promised.

He shyly introduced the hypnotist to his fellow co-workers, reading from an index card the information he gotten from him on the phone several days previous. The man received a warm, welcoming applause, and the show began.

Jason blinked in astonishment at the man who seemed to come alive and take on a whole different personality as he took center stage. He told jokes while explaining a little bit about the art of hypnotizing. He had a deep voice that seemed to pull everyone's attention to him and Jason found himself just as mesmerized as his co-workers by that voice as the man called for volunteers for the evening's entertainment.

After getting only three of the state workers to come up, he went out into the audience and chose several more people to assist him. Jason and Debra exchanged a humorous look as his office tormentor, Lile, was reluctantly urged to join the five sitting on the chairs set up in the center front of the dinner tables.

"You should go up there," Debra nudged her friend.

"And miss the fun? No way," he laughed softly, anticipating something taking place during the performance that would be embarrassing to the large-sized man who had made his life at work miserable for several months before someone reported his actions. He turned his attention to the hypnotist as he faced the six people now sitting in the chairs at the front of the room. He took a large, blue crystal, fixed on a chain, out of his pocket, and asked the participants to focus on the bauble and listen only to the sound of his voice. Everyone in the audience concentrated on the hypnotist's voice and on the sparkling blue glass that moved in a slow-arching swing like that of a pendulum.

Once the six were in a hypnotic state, the audience seemed enthralled by the man's manipulations of their fellow co-workers. They were more than entertained at seeing one of them, a middle aged woman who worked at window sixteen, sing an Italian aria, or her version of it. It was obvious from her performance that she didn't know anything about opera, foreign languages or singing. The words she spouted were made up and her voice tried to copy the high-range notes a soprano might try. It came out of any recognizable turn and warbled. To the audience who knew the woman, it was hysterical.

Then another worker was convinced that he was a door to door condom salesman with only one more sale to make before could go home to his famous model wife. His selling technique proved to be enthusiastic and unique. It would be a performance he would probably never live down.

One of the oldest men working at the high pressure job was told he was eight months pregnant, with twins. His antics of walking, sitting and moaning about his predicament had his co-workers almost falling off their chairs.

Another employee acted the part of an Arab sheik and another was the President of the United States giving the State of the Union Address.

Kevin Lile sat quietly in his chair in a state of rest with his head bowed. Mr. Hannible came to him last. He told his last subject that he was a five year old who wanted more than anything a shiny-red fire truck and that his mother didn't want to buy for him. The entire office staff watched as the overweight man pouted, begged with his unseen mother, then threw himself down on the floor and threw a temper tantrum. Mr. Hannible quickly told him he could have the truck and the bully sat up and smiled angelically at him.

"Shit, do you think that's how he really was as a child?" Deb turned to ask her friend sitting behind her, only to see Jason was sitting with his head down, just like those who had been hypnotized on the stage. Remembering the performer's warning, she called out to him. "Mr. Hannible?"

The man turned to find the African American girl waving her arm at him and, catching his attention, she pointed to her companion.

"Looks like we have another volunteer," the hypnotist said with a grin to the attentive crowd. "Some people are more susceptible than others to being hypnotized and it seems your friend here is one of them. I met Mr. Phillips upon my arrival here tonight. Do you think we should see what goes on in that handsome head of his?"

Some clapping and shouts of encouragement from the audience urged the performer to continue.

"Sometimes, while in the state of being hypnotized," Mr. Hannible continued, "it's possible to recall past lives, although between you and me," he gave them all a knowing look with a teasing smile, "it seems everyone who ever lived a past life wasn't just a peasant or mill worker, but sheiks, nobles or priestesses in an Egyptian temple. Let's see if your co-worker here could be the reincarnated William the Conqueror, Napoleon or Ronald Reagan." The audience laughed appropriately and Mr. Hannible turned his attention back to the young man sitting with his arms slack at his sides and his head bowed.

"Mr. Phillips," he said to the un-responsive young man. "Would you stand up please?"

Debra watched as her friend obeyed the man's command and stood, looking more like a drooping rag doll with his head and arms hanging slack than the quietly animated person she knew he could be.

"What's his first name again?" Mr. Hannible asked, looking in her direction.

"Jason," she replied, suddenly feeling nervous that the man might ask something that would reveal her friend's miserable living arrangements and would cause him more trouble than he was already dealing with.

"Jason," the dark hair man smiled warmly at the young man he would toy with next. "I want you to relax completely and drift into a deep, restful sleep." He waited a moment as the unmoving man stayed completely still. "I want you to go back in your mind, past all the worries of today, past your job and life here as you know it. I want you to search your memory to see if there is a part of yourself you didn't know about, another life that you've lived before this one. Can you see past being Jason Phillips? Were you ever someone else?"

Everyone in the room watched as the small, petite man nodded his dropped head. Mr. Hannible gave the audience an excited grin, looking like whatever was going to happen was going to be fun.

"I want you to remember that person, think of the time, the place and circumstances and become that person once again. Do it now," he ordered with confidence. "When I count to three, I want you to open your eyes as the other person and speak with me." He paused for a dramatic effect then began his count. "One... two... three!"

Debra watched as Jason's head began to lift and his eyelids opened revealing a cynical expression on the handsome face that took everyone in the room by surprise, Debra included.

Putting a hand on his hip with an unfamiliar sarcastic grin growing on his face, Jason asked snidely. "Hey, what's with all the stiffs?"

TBC

Thanks, Aphreal, for catching my slips. You're great!


	4. Illumination

**Integrated**

**By: Bane's Desire**

**Part 3 - Illumination**

**Warnings and disclaimer** on page one. Add language to the warning for this chapter.

Putting a hand on his hip with an unfamiliar sarcastic grin on his face, the hypnotized young man asked. "Hey, what's with all the stiffs?"

Even Mr. Hannible looked a bit taken aback by the young man's transformation. But being an experienced performer, he quickly recovered. "Who are you?" he asked the new personality.

"People 'round here call me Sidekick cause that's what I am to Solo. He calls me Kid."

"Solo?" Hannible queried.

The young man narrowed his eyes and glared. "Yeah, Solo. He's the head of our gang. I do anything he wants me to 'cause it's for the other kids." "Where do you live, Sidekick?"

"Where else but this shit hole, L-2," he replied, casting his eyes around the room, obviously seeing something the other people present didn't and with a look of wariness on his face. Murmurs of concern began to fill the room. L-2 was a place that was notorious even on Earth for its poverty and crime.

"How old are you?"

A look of disgust came over the face of Jason, giving him the appearance of someone so unlike himself. "How the fuck would I know? Don't you lame asses know we street kids don't know nut'en about things like that? It's not like we'z got parents to fork out that kind of info."

"So you're homeless and an orphan on Colony L-2?" Hannible asked, looking a bit uneasy. After Sidekick nodded, he looked to the audience, "Well, there goes my theory about grandiose reincarnations," he said, noticing the joke had fallen rather flat and that the audience's attention was centered solely on the young man looking at them with an attitude of defiance in his stance and eyes. He turned his attention to the boy also, finding this experience to be utterly fascinating. "How do you survive on the streets?"

"We'z got our ways." A sly grin rose on Jason's face. "Me, I'm the best pickpocket around. Some a da kids do the beg'en and others steal whats we need. Solo watches over us as we work, mak'en sure we're safe. He won't let anyone of uz be used by johns or pimps. No sir, we're not taking no cock up da ass for anyone, not our gang. Solo says it's better ta starve then to be a cheap whore."

Gasps from both men and women could be heard from the audience at both the language and harsh description of a child's life on the streets that came from Jason's mouth. The festive holiday mood had definitely been broken.

"What year is it, Sidekick?" the hypnotist asked somberly.

The young man at the center of attention gave an insouciant shrug of his thin shoulder. "I dunno for sure, but I heard someone say it's AC 191, whatever good that does me."

A collective gasp was heard throughout the dining room. Knowing the young man before them was at least twenty years old, it couldn't have been a past life he was recalling when AC 191 was only twelve years past. The entire puzzled audience noted the horrified look of understanding that fell upon the hypnotist's face.

"I want you to close your eyes, Sidekick, and relax your body." Hannible said in a slightly shaky voice, and waited until the young man complied. The audience watched as the haughty stance of the street kid was replace by the limp, sleep-like stance Jason had taken earlier. "You are to come back to the present day and time, to being Jason Phillips who works at the Illinois DMV. On the count of three, you and everyone else," he included the five still sitting in their chairs behind them, still in a hypnotic state of rest, "will wake up and open your eyes. One... two... three!"

The six who had been in the spotlight blinked their eyes open and looked around, all blushing at the remembrance of their performance. Jason stood with a dazed, thunderstruck expression on his face, his arms wrapped around his waist making him look ill at ease and unsure of himself. His eyes desperately searched the room, and finding expressions of disapproval, concern and worry on the faces of his co-workers, he looked quickly away, only to find Debra standing at his side.

"Let's give your fellow co-workers a round of applause for helping out this evening," Mr. Hannible said, encouraging the smattering of applause that followed his request.

"You okay?" Debra looked worried as she took his arm and led him back to his vacated chair.

Jason nodded and allowed himself to be taken to the table where he sat down on his chair looking numb. "What the hell was that?" he asked her, then rubbed at his forehead which ached something terrible.

Debra's hand was at his back, rubbing soothing circles to ease his discomfort. "Do you remember what just happened?" she asked, keeping her voice low. Looking around the table she noticed their dinner companions were staring at her friend. She gave them a warning glare, then turned to concentrate on him.

"I don't know," he answered in a small voice, rubbing his forehead and temples. "I think so, but it feels like I've just had a really bad dream or something."

Seeing his distress, the young woman got up, realizing no one else was about to take Jason's place as M.C. "Alright people," she said loud enough for everyone to hear. "Let's thank Mr. Duane Hannible for coming here tonight and entertaining us. Thank you, Mr. Hannible." More applause sounded this time, much to the relief of the girl and the performer who obviously thought his evening's performance had gone flat with his last subject.

Debra watched as the hypnotist took a brief bow and quickly left the center of attention. She turned and pulled her friend to his feet by taking hold of his elbow again. "Come on," she urged, then took his hand and pulled him up to his feet. "We've got to figure out what just happened and the only man who can explain it is about to walk out the door." Pulling him behind her, Debra ran after the performer regardless of the expensive dress, high heels and glittery purse in her hand, completely ignoring their curious co-workers staring after them.

"Mr. Hannible, wait!" she called out to the quickly retreating man exiting the room.

Turning around to see who was running after him, the hypnotist frowned unhappily in spying his last subject. Still, he stood and waited just outside the room in the hotel's hallway for the two to approach him. But just as they reached him he held up his hand, halting the words that were about to come out of the young woman's mouth.

"Do you have any idea how much trouble I could get into by awakening him?" He asked her, motioning to Jason.

The girl's brown eyes narrowed as Jason stood quietly by, worriedly observing the both of them. "What the hell do you mean by awakening?" she demanded.

Mr. Hannible looked around to see that no one else had followed them out the door nor was there anyone close enough to overhear their conversation. He lowered his voice as he addressed the both of them. "Listen," he began. "I'm no expert, just a talented hypnotist who dropped out of college when it got too boring and my new hobby began to make itself useful. But from what I've read, the government in charge of criminal rehabilitation, does not sit well with outside interference with their integrated subjects. There are penalties, harsh ones, that are passed out to anyone who disrupts the life or processing of one who has been Integrated. It's pretty damn clear to me that Mr. Phillips here has had this procedure done, and if I inadvertently damaged his new memories, I could be sent to prison. So if you'll excuse me, I've got to get out of here."

"Integrated, what does that mean?" Jason asked before the man could turn to leave, looking confused and shaken.

"It means you've had a criminal past that was erased by the government and that your current life has been implanted into your mind to make you a model citizen," Hannible explained patiently, though his eyes continued to shift in a nervous manner around the area surrounding them. "The memory you spoke of in the other room under hypnosis was no doubt a true memory, a part of your criminal past."

"No way!" Jason protested, closing his eyes and putting a hand to his aching head. "I can remember growing up in Minneapolis, on the east side of the city on Glenboro Way. I graduated from high school there and my parents died in a car crash in my senior year," he said in strained voice. "I remember it all, my childhood, holidays, my home, bedroom and pets. I met Scott at school there and moved to Chicago with him. There's no way I can be what you think I am," he said looking panicked.

"That's exactly how the new integrated memories work," Hannible replied patiently. "Your memories of L-2 and the troubled childhood you recalled moments ago, as well as your obvious career in crime were taken away," the dark-haired man replied, looking at the smaller man with disapproval on his face regarding the younger man's wayward past. "In return, they plant within your mind the memories of an innocent, law-abiding citizen who would never even think about breaking the law."

Debra watched as Jason stood, blinking a few times as he absorbed the information the slightly older man offered as an explanation for what had happened earlier. His face looked troubled, his eyes clouded over by confusion. "I don't believe any of this," she said firmly, putting a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder.

"How can that be possible?" Jason asked. "I'm only twenty one. How bad of a person could I have been to have this... this integration thing done to me at my age? Is there any way to know for sure that what you're saying it true?"

The hypnotist thought for a moment before he gave a nod of his head and answered. "If I remember right, the people who are re-habilitated by Integration are given a small mark behind the right ear to identify them as an Integrated citizen so that people who are either a medical or mental heath professional, unlike myself, know not to tamper with them. Do you know if you have a mark like that?"

Jason exchanged a look with Debra and frowned, not remembering ever having looked closely behind his ear before.

"Let me see," Debra said, moving to his right side and pulling his right ear lobe forward at the same time as she leaned in to get a better look. She paused and the air around the three stilled as her eyes narrowed. "There's a mark here alright," she said softly. "It's really small and looks like a stamp or something.

"The mark is supposed to be a number or flag of whatever state or country performed the Integration procedure. It's a way of tracking the individual in case problems arise. Otherwise, Integrated people are free to live their lives peaceably."

"You look then," Debra offered, letting go of Jason's ear lobe and stepping back. "See if you can tell what it is."

With a sigh, Mr. Hannible took a small black case out of the pocket inside the lining of his jacket, opened it, and slipped his eyeglasses on. Moving closer to the worried looking young man, he also pulled the ear forward, then turned Jason's head to put more light onto the small quarter inch design on his ear.

Debra watched with interest as the dark-haired hypnotist studied the spot, and observed the exact moment when his eyes widened behind his glasses with shock. "What is it?" she asked, watching as the man stumbled back from her friend with a look of utter disbelief on his face.

"Oh shit!" he whispered. "Shit, shit, shit. I'm in so much fucking trouble," he said with a look of misery crossing over his face. He looked Jason in the face and ran a trembling hand through his dark hair. "You don't remember anything, do you?" he asked, his eyes taking in the young man's appearance with incredulity written on his own face at what he'd discovered.

Jason turned to look at him, feeling wary and frightened at everything that was happening. He shook his head, not so much in answer to the taller man's question, but because he didn't know what he was suppose to be remembering.

The performer buried his head into his hands and moaned softly. "I'm such an idiot. Why do I always have to learn the hard way? Why didn't I check first before I delved into his memories?"

Debra was losing patience, she'd had just about enough of being left in the dark. Taking a firm hold of the hypnotist's arm, she growled out. "What the hell are you talking about? What is it that you saw? What does it mean?" she demanded.

"Believe me," the man laughed mirthlessly with an edge of panic to it. "You don't want to know." He looked directly at the small fireball who was glaring at him with a menacing threat in her eyes. "Take my advice," he said in all seriousness, "forget about this or we'll all end up in prison." He then turned on his heel and moved to leave the horrendous situation he'd gotten himself into.

"Wait a minute," Debra grabbed hold of his arm again, using all of her five foot, one inch height and strength, along with the will of a giant to stop the man. Hannible turned with an irritated look on his face, but she didn't wait for him to speak. She grabbed hold of his lapels and forced him to bend down until his face was an inch from her own. When she was sure she had his undivided attention, she continued with her argument. "My friend here," she hissed as she motioned with a nod of her head towards Jason who stood still and stunned by her actions, "is living a waking nightmare. I just want to know why. What happened to him that he is forced to stay in an abusive relationship? Why does he suffer debilitating heart pain whenever he thinks about defending himself or tries to leave his abusive lover? Is this the type of situation the governments put the Integrated in?" she spat angrily. "If so, it's abusing his rights as an individual and as a citizen of this country. It's nothing short of being cruel and inhumane." She spoke with the same type of passion she always had when standing up and fighting for a good cause. To her, Jason was a damn good cause. He was worth fighting for. She'd come to that decision early on in their friendship, and if she could help him now, she'd damn well give it her all. "Now tell me what the hell that mark is on his ear and why does it seem to scare the shit out of you?"

During the course of her speech, Hannible's face turned from harsh and unyielding to an expression of concern laced with pity after learning a bit more about the timid young man standing nervously in front of him. Yet in watching the change in his expression, Debra noted the man's eyes also still held a trace of fear as he studied Jason's face.

"I'm only guessing here," the slightly older man said in a very low voice, his eyes darting around again to make sure they were alone in the hotel corridor. Seeing that they were, he continued. "But if he is who I think he is..." he stopped and shook his head in disbelief, "then I've got the worst luck in the world. What are the chances that I would unlock the mind of one of the notorious gundam pilots."

Debra's eyes widened almost comically as they went from Hannible to Jason, who looked equally as shocked. "No way," she whispered with disbelief, knowing her friend's timid nature.

"From what I've read about the pilots from the colonies, they were teenagers at the time, all of them small in stature to fit in the cramped cockpits of their gundams and each of them were highly trained. That makes Jason about the right age and size, and the mark on his ear is indisputable proof that he's one of them."

"Are you sure?" she choked out, her eyes never leaving Jason's shocked and pale face.

The other man nodded, his voice lowering further. "Yes. It's a well-known fact that the six people who piloted the gundams during the war underwent the Integration process in the Sanq Kingdom more than three years ago. That mark identifies him as one of them. To my knowledge, they're the only six people to have ever under one that procedure in that country: the five gundam pilots from the colonies and Zech Marquis, formerly an OZ officer who flew the gundam Epyon. Jason is obviously one of those pilots from the colonies."

"T..t...that's not r..right," Jason stammered. "I have a h..h..heart condition and I'm basically a chicken shit. I couldn't have been a gundam pilot," the young man in question spit out, looking frightened by the mere suggestion that he could have been something more than what he was now.

"Like I said," the taller man spoke firmly, looking at Debra. "We should just forget about this. He doesn't remember anything else. It's safer to just let sleeping dogs lie."

"No!" Debra responded heatedly as she absently pulled up the black bra strap that had fallen off her shoulder, returning it in place under the material of the elegant black, sleeveless dress she wore, a look of determination burning bright in her brown eyes.

"What time is it?" Jason interrupted, looking around as if he were lost. "I've got to be home by ten thirty."

Debra looked at the dainty gold watch on her wrist. "It's only nine fifteen, Jas. We have time."

"This is all fascinating but extremely dangerous to even talk about," the other man said, still scanning the area around them, to anyone who might have been watching, the movement giving him the appearance of being guilty of something.

"Look," Debra spoke up, her tone of voice was sharp and challenging. "Jason needs you. Are you going to help us here or not?"

There were several tense moments where Debra stood firmly in place, her facial expression leveling a challenge to the man who was weighing his options, his eyes often turning to rest on Jason who appeared young, insecure and unsure of himself and the situation. She grabbed hold of her friend's sleeve, assuring herself that he wouldn't run off as she observed a range of emotions running through the slightly older man's eyes. She wondered if Hannible was looking at Jason as the person who had once bravely fought for peace for the colonies, feared by the Alliance, OZ and White Fang, or if he thought of him as an unfortunate who, by some strange twist of fate, had been reduced to a frightened young man, abused and intimidated by his lover and unable to leave. She was relieved to see the taller man's face soften as he came to the conclusion she had hoped for.

"Alright, I'll help," he said in a reluctant, quiet voice, and as Debra let out the breath she'd been holding she gave Jason an encouraging smile. Mr. Hannible continued. "It might land me in prison, but from what you've told me, Mr. Phillips is already living in a prison of sorts, one not of his own making."

"My apartment is only about a mile from here," Debra told both men. "We can leave here and be there in five minutes to discuss this in a more private setting. I can give you a ride home after we talk, Jas, so you can be there on time."

The young man remained worried. "If Scott finds out I left the party..." He let the rest of his sentence unfinished, letting the others come to their own conclusion as to what might happen to him if that should happen.

Debra knew enough about Scott Mercer and his abusive behavior to understand that the fear displayed on her friend's face was very real. She turned to send a silent appeal to the other man who was staring at Jason with a frown on his face, then turned back to her friend. "Please, Jason, you have to get away from him. Maybe Mr. Hannible here can find a way to erase your fears. Maybe he can find out if your heart trouble is real or psychosomatic."

"That just might be the case," the other man spoke up. "From what I've read, part of the Integration process sometimes includes an implanted trigger that set off a physical reaction to certain negative impulses. It can be used to disabuse the subject from drug abuse, gambling addiction, abusing themselves or even running away." His eyes narrowed in thought for a moment. "Jason's heart pain and panic attacks could possibly have been programmed into his subconscious as a way to repress any violent emotions or thoughts he may have of running away. Such unconscious responses help contain and control the Integrated individual."

It was obvious that the entire conversation upset Jason terribly. He looked worriedly over his shoulder at the door to the room they'd left a short while ago. "But the party," he said with uncertainty. Deb knew he'd worked hard to organize the gathering inside the party room and that he felt responsible for its success.

"I'll ask Cheryl if she can see that it wraps up neatly and on time. I'll tell her I'm taking you home because you don't feel well." When her friend didn't look convinced that they were doing the right thing, she continued, not willing to take no for an answer. "I'll be back in five minutes. I'll get our jackets while I'm in there." She then turned to address the hypnotist. "Have you got your own car or would you like to come in mine?"

"I took a taxi here," Hannible replied. "I suppose a ride would come in handy."

"Back in five," she said, then turned and disappeared back into the room where the party was in full swing with someone singing a fairly good rendition of White Christmas into the rented karaoke machine, leaving the two men standing conspicuously in the hotel hallway, trying not to look at each other.

TBC

Thanks to all who have written or reviewed. Your encouragement is heartening.


	5. The Past Is Present

Disclaimers and Warnings on first page of this story.

Integration

By: Bane's Desire

Part 4 - The Past is Present

Less than ten minutes later the three were on the snow-plowed road in Debra's two-door sedan, driving towards her apartment. It was Jason who broke the silence between them. "So what exactly is the mark? The one behind my ear?"

"It's a miniature flag identifying the country responsible for your Integration," the hypnotist replied. "The one behind your ear is very distinct. There are only six such marks on Earth or in the Colonies. Here in the United States, where the Integration procedure began, the tattooed mark is simply series of letters and numbers. A short, two-letter abbreviation of the state in which it was done and an individual identification number that is so small that it would have to be inspected with a magnifying glass in order to actually see it."

Jason nodded, it was yet another piece of information he would store in his mind to pull up later and think about when he wasn't feeling quite so unbalanced and overwhelmed by all that was being thrown at him. "I don't remember ever being in Europe, but I'm beginning to remember bits and pieces, maybe just flashes of images about living on the streets somewhere that's dark and cold. Will triggering that memory lead to more?" he asked, his eyebrows drawn together with apprehension. The memories coming slowly back to his mind brought with them the haunting sensations of hunger and cold, of hiding and fighting for safety and food, of death and sorrow. A violent shudder shook his slight-framed body and it had nothing to do with the frigid temperature outside the car. He wasn't sure he wanted to remember any more of that existence.

Mr. Hannible, sitting in the front passenger seat of the car, turned to him and answered, "It's possible that you might remember more on your own now that some of your childhood memories have been recalled."

Tired all of a sudden, Jason lay his weary head against the back of the seat and let it tilt to the side so that his forehead came to rest against the cold glass window. He felt as if he was being swept away by some unknown force that he didn't quite comprehend, and with it came a definite sense of deep foreboding. He listlessly viewed the dark storefronts as they passed them by, not really seeing anything but noting that the buildings, empty of people and light, seemed to reflect the feelings within himself. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes, thinking that at least his head wasn't hurting as badly as it had been earlier.

Deb turned her car into an underground garage, signaling their arrival at her apartment complex. "My boyfriend, Jerome, is in California for a game on Sunday against the Raiders," she told them. "So we have the apartment to ourselves."

Mr. Hannible's head turned quickly and he gave her a surprised look. Leaning towards her to look more closely at the ebony-skinned girl he asked, "Who's your boyfriend?"

"Jerome Tolliver," she answered with a knowing smile, looking aside to catch a glimpse of the anticipated look of shock displayed in the hypnotist's eyes.

"The linebacker?"

She nodded with a full-fledged smile on her pretty face.

"Holy crap!" The older man said, his eyes wide with amazement. He was obviously a Bears' fan.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Debra said as she pulled into her assigned parking spot and turned off the car. "Come on, let's get inside where it's warm."

The two men followed the petite young woman to the elevator which took them up to the fifth floor. She then led them down the hallway to room 511, unlocked it, then entered, the other two following silently behind her. It was indeed warm inside, as Debra had promised, and she took off her coat and signaled for them to follow her example.

"Would you like something to drink, Jas?" she asked. When her friend indicated with a shake of his head that he didn't, she turned to the other man. "Mr. Hannible?"

"Call me Duane," he replied. "You make me feel over the hill with all your misters. I'm twenty-nine years old, not in a wheelchair. And no, thank you. I'm not thirsty, just nervous about this whole situation."

Jason kept his coat on to help keep his body warm, which always seemed to run on the cool side. He looked around the apartment, noting the tasteful furniture that looked both classy and comfortable at the same time, just like Debra, he thought. Feeling apprehensive about the reason they were there, he immediately began to pace the floor, his fists shoved deeply into his jacket pockets.

Debra noticed his agitated state and looked to the older man. "What do we do now?" she asked him.

"Jason," the hypnotist began, saying the younger man's name in order to gain his attention. "Tell me what you want. Do you really want me to restore your memories?"

Jason sighed, shoving his fists even deeper into his pockets, his shoulders hunched together. "What I'm remembering isn't... pleasant, and I can't imagine the memories of being a gundam pilot will be all that much better." He looked up from the floor with a pained expression on his face. It reflected a different type of pain than what he usually experienced. The steadily growing ache centered in his stomach, and this time it was caused from his fear of the dark unknown that lay before him, of his indecision over what he should do, along with a deep sense of dread that came with just thinking about the consequences for remembering his supposed notorious past. He turned to look at his good friend to see her warm brown eyes were filled with sympathy for him. "But the life I'm living now isn't much better, is it, Deb?"

The petite woman's eyes turned sad as she answered him. "No, it isn't, and you're trapped in it just as much as you would be behind the bars of a prison. This is going to help, Jas, I'm sure of it. I think you should do this. Let Duane help you."

Jason closed his eyes to ponder his decision, but even as he thought about it, he knew the decision had already been made. "All right," he said, his voice shaking slightly as he shifted his eyes to Duane. "Let's do it."

The ebony-haired man nodded then motioned for Jason to sit on the couch. "Before we begin anything, I'd first like a promise from you."

"If I can," Jason replied as he sat stiffly on the edge of the sofa.

"I want you to swear to me that once you gain your memories back you'll not come after Debra or myself in any form of retaliation or need to cover your tracks and that you won't mention our names to any officials should you be caught."

Jason nodded, he could do that. "I can't imagine that I'd ever want to hurt either of you, but all right, you have my word," he said in a serious manner and noticed that the relief the other man felt from his agreement was more than apparent when the tense lines around his eyes lessened. Jason glanced at his watch, a worried frown coming to his face again as he noted the time. "How should we do this? I have to go home in a few minutes or get knocked on my ass. It's pretty obvious, because of the lack of time, that we can't do anything further tonight and I can't get away evenings or weekends."

"I could come by your work during your lunch hour," Duane offered after a moment of thought. "Is there a room we could use there, some place we won't be disturbed or discovered?"

Both Jason and Debra shook their heads to the negative. "We work for the DMV, Duane," Debra answered with a roll of her eyes indicating that his suggestion was ridiculous. "Every inch of the building is in use all day. But, you could use my car. I have sun shades you can put up on the inside of the windows in order to give you some privacy."

"It might be too distracting," Duane replied, sounding doubtful.

"You managed to hypnotize Jason in a room full of people and he wasn't even one of your volunteers."

Duane nodded, acknowledging her point. "We'll give it a try. What time?"

"Twelve thirty," Jason answered.

"Then I'll be there Monday at twelve twenty five and wait out front." He then turned to Debra. "Give your car keys to Jason and I'll follow him to it."

With an eye on his watch once more, the younger man displayed a return of his nervousness. "I really have to go," he said anxiously, then turned to the hypnotist. "Thank you, Duane. I don't know how I'll ever repay you, but I want you to know that you're saving my life." He then took the taller man's hand and quickly shook it, gratitude shining in his eyes.

"I hope what I'm about to do is the right thing," the other man replied, looking resigned but concerned. "I don't want to doom the three of us to a life in prison."

Debra led them to the door of her apartment, grabbing up her coat and beaded purse. "Then we'll have make sure this secret is kept between the three of us. Do we all agree to that? To tell no one of what we discovered tonight or what we're going to do about it?" she asked, then looked specifically at Hannible, knowing that her friend wouldn't tell anyone and neither would she, not even her fiancé. She waited for the man's solemn nod of agreement before she opened the door.

One minute later the three were in the elevator, headed back to Debra's car with the plan to let the older man off at the hotel where he would catch a cab to his own apartment. Debra would then drop Jason off at his apartment complex, arriving ten minutes before his curfew expired where he would no doubt be greeted by his clock-watching tormentor.

The weekend proved to be a very long one for Jason Phillips. He'd made it home on Friday night before the extended curfew expired. Scott promptly called in his favor. Jason figured that giving the other man a blow job was worth the time away from his domineering presence and the information he'd gained from being accidentally hypnotized.

Before Monday morning arrived, he'd twice been maneuvered into performing sexual favors for the Japanese man, slapped three times, and thrown against the kitchen wall. He'd also had three heart episodes and one panic attack where he couldn't catch his breath. After surviving yet another exhausting and stressful weekend, Jason was more than ready to return to the hectic office where he worked. He was even more anxious about his meeting with Duane Hannible during his lunch hour, wondering where the clandestine sessions with him in Debra's car would take him.

In his mind, his only true sanctuary anymore, he pondered what the hypnotist had said, that he had been a gundam pilot. He wrestled with that thought over and over during the weekend, trying to overcome his disbelief and comprehend that he could possibly be one of the notorious gundam pilots he'd read briefly about and heard men in the barber shop heatedly debating over. It didn't seem real or even remotely possible that he could have been strong enough to be one of the colonies' young warriors, but he clung to the hope that it was true, that he had once been strong and brave, and the he could be that once again. He was decidedly nervous and anxious about the unknown future before him, but somehow it felt better to have hope in his life once again rather than the desolate gray that had for so long painted his outlook of the future.

Debra handed him her car keys during his morning break and quietly wished him good luck. No matter what happened he was determined to remember her friendship and try to pay her back, even if that payback could only be done by protecting her from any harm that might come about from her helping him and being his friend.

With his paper bag lunch clutched in his hands, Jason exited the building of his employment promptly at twelve thirty. He spotted the red, sporty sedan at the back of the parking lot and walked towards it, seeing out of the corner of his eye a tall, dark-haired man in a gray winter coat following him.

He reached Debra's car, unlocked it, and looked up to the opposite side to see Duane opening the passenger door, his face looking pale and grave, probably a mirrored reflection of how he also looked and felt. Jason could only guess from the other's somber expression that the hypnotist was probably having some reservations about what they were attempting to do.

The windshield and side-window sun protectors were sitting on the seats, and the two men quickly snapped them open and put them up, securing the interior of the car from unwanted eyes. "I have one hour," Jason stated, trying to get comfortable in the driver's seat while feeling tense and nervous. He pulled his coat more tightly around him as the chill in the car began to seep in.

"Since you've been hypnotized before," Duane began, "you'll be more susceptible to its influence and going under. No implements should be needed, so I want you to recline the seat, close your eyes and listen to the sound of my voice as you relax your mind and body."

Jason nodded at the instructions and lowered the driver's seat until he was almost flat on his back. He closed his eyes and with a slight shuddering sigh he willed himself to relax.

An hour later Jason found himself sitting in his cubicle feeling strangely refreshed despite the fact that his lunch sat untouched next to his computer. He recalled the entire session with Duane during their hour spent in Debra's car. Together they'd gone back into his past where he recalled his life as an orphan and thief on the streets of L-2. The feelings of fear hopelessness was meshed together with those of hunger and loneliness, sensations that came along with the returning memories. He recalled a boy named Solo, who had been like an older brother to him. His death, caused by a plague brought upon the poor of L-2, was a painful moment to remember. He spoke haltingly and fought the feeling of overwhelming sorrow as he'd recalled that memory and he shed the tears of a bitter, frightened child. They'd stopped the session at a point where he'd been found and taken to an orphanage by a kind priest named Father Maxwell and was introduced to a nun, Sister Helen. Duane instructed him to remember all he'd recalled and that when he came back to the present, he would feel refreshed and hopeful. Those feelings lingered with him still.

Looking up to the number lit on the board above him, he hit the button next to his computer. A moment later he greeted number G-184 walking towards him, a nervous -looking teenager with braces on her teeth who was applying for her driver's license for the very first time. And to all appearances his life went on without a hiccup.

During each lunch hour that week, Duane met Jason at Debra's car. The amount of memories reclaimed by the younger man was nothing less than remarkable to the hypnotist. Jason, who was feeling more comfortable with the idea of being someone other than what he once believed, remembered Duo's life in the orphanage, where he'd lived for approximately two years. He received his first formal education there, grew to love the priest and nun while fighting off bullies at school who teased him for being small, an orphan, and for his long hair which had been pulled back into a braid.

Both men wiped away their tears from the retelling of the story of the little boy who had been left feeling guilt ridden and alone once more after the Alliance and L-2 rebels clashed. The confrontation ended with the church and orphanage, along with its inhabitants, being destroyed. Having survived by the fact that he wasn't there at the time of the attack, the heartbroken orphaned boy ran away to live for a short time on the streets again before going to a shipyard with the hope of getting onto a Sweeper's ship.

Desperate to escape the memories and horrors of his home colony, the scrappy little thief made good his daring escape by stealing aboard one of the ships docked and loading supplies for an apparent, imminent voyage. Duo was discovered several days out of port by a man doing a maintenance check and was hauled by the scruff of his neck before the captain as a stowaway. The captain was a man who was simply known as Howard. Duo's memories recalled the tall, middle-aged and wiry man as being easy-going, well-liked amongst his men and that he wore shirts imprinted with colorful flowers. The captain of the Sweeper ship took an instant liking to the spunky kid who ranted and cursed at great length at the larger men surrounding him, warning them that if they dared to touched him, he'd make sure they'd live to regret it. From the moment Howard laughed at his threats and antics, then grabbed the kid and ruffled his messy hair, Duo was more or less adopted by the Sweeper crew. Being a part of the Sweepers, having been accepted by them and given a place amongst the hard-working men, the boy from L-2 found a camaraderie similar to what he'd felt with his old street gang again, a feeling that he belonged. Despite the loss of the people he cared about, those in his former gang and the orphanage, he'd found a sense of happiness and security with the Sweepers that he'd never known before in his short, bleak life on the streets L-2.

Not long after that time, he'd been introduced to Professor G, a short man with a strange haircut that looked like a bowl had been placed over his head and the rim was used as a guide for the scissors. Duo's memories recalled that the man had a nose too big for his face and was about Howard's age. He appeared to be working on a secret project that the boy had heard about by carefully listening to the whispered conversations of the crew. It seemed G and Howard were collaborating to build something big, dangerous and illegal. G's attention then turned to the newest and youngest Sweeper. Duo recalled being put through several tests to determine his intelligence and abilities before Professor G began to educate and train him, turning a thief from the streets of L-2 into a pilot for a new type of mobile suit and a secret plan called Operation Meteor.

In the session following the return of those memories, Duane brought with him an old magazine he'd kept. The cover story was about the war between some of the colonies and the Alliance. It showed pictures of the almost impenetrable gundanium mobile suits, sent by the colonies to fight for their cause. The pages displayed in color graphic pictures of destroyed bases, mobile suits decimated in battle, and the destroyed shuttle of General Noventa, a pacifist, who perished after Gundam 01 attacked the ship shortly after take off.

Duane watched as Jason devoured every word and studied every picture in trying to fully understand what exactly his place in the war had been. They talked about it at length and it was becoming clearer with each session that revenge for the poverty stricken colony and the victims of the orphanage massacre were probably more than enough incentive and motivation for the orphaned boy to have become a gundam pilot.

Duane Hannible was clearly fascinated by the person he was attempting to help. It was a unique experience for him to watch a new personality evolve out of the timid and insecure young man he'd met less than a week ago. As Duo Maxwell came to the surface, Duane could see he was more intelligent than his persona of Jason Phillips, more confident and cocky rather than the timid mouse who was afraid of his own shadow and lacked the spark of life that Duo seemed to have. From Jason the abused emerged Duo the indomitable soldier, and along with the new personality came a dazzling smile that beat aside Jason's more familiar and constant worried expression.

Gaining confidence in his own abilities with each successful session, Duane was surprised to realize that his initial hesitation in helping break the Integration programming quickly dissipated as he worked with the former gundam pilot to regain his memory. Being a bit of a history buff, he was becoming more than a little anxious to learn as much as he could about the teenager who fought in the two Earth-Colony wars, to learn second hand on how it had felt to pilot a gundam and experience past events from this unique perspective of the story told in history books. He knew there was probably only a handful of people living that had ever known the identity and background of this remarkable young man he'd stumbled upon, and Duane felt privileged that he was, purely by accident, now included in that number.

"Jason." The pert nose and green-tinted eyes lifted from yet another old magazine, filled with information about the past wars. "Let's get started."

The young man nodded, closed the magazine and handed it to Duane for safe keeping. Jason then lowered the back of the car seat and wiggled slightly to get comfortable. Once settled, he closed his eyes and visibly relaxed, prepared to be taken back to his hidden past.

"Relax your mind and body, Jason. I want you to listen to the sound of my voice." This session took place just three days before Christmas. It was decidedly shorter than the other lunchtime encounters because of Jason's growing obsession with reading the old magazines Duane brought each day. But much was accomplished in the time allotted as Jason's other personality recalled the past and events that lead up to his trying to destroy Deathscythe when he learned the full extent of Operation Meteor. Under hypnosis, the boy, Duo, related to Duane who was absorbing his every word, how G invited him to steal the black gundam, which he did, then flew to Earth to became the God of Death, Shinigami.

Their time was drawing to an end that day, and as a last effort, the hypnotist worked on lifting one of Jason's blocks. In one of their earlier sessions, Jason had told him of things he suspected weren't natural about his behavior. His crippling panic attacks and excruciating chest pains were apparently brought on by any thoughts he conjured up about harming his abuser or even leaving him. He also confessed that he wasn't able to look himself in the eyes when he was in front of a mirror and had to wear tinted contacts, nor was he capable of harming himself, and the story of his attempted suicided had been haltingly re-told. After hearing Jason's symptoms, Duane was certain there had been blocks placed in his mind with pain triggers attached to them, and he was anxious to remove them and help Jason to regain some of his freedom.

As the younger man was brought back to the present, his lunch time drawing to an end, he sat up and stretched, feeling stiff from being in the same position for so long. Duane told him take out his contacts and to look at his reflection. For the first time in years, Jason looked into the rear-view mirror and into his reflection. His gaze lingered for several moments before he turned to the hypnotist and beamed a brilliant smile, clearly displaying his happiness and gratitude for the simple act of looking into his own eyes. As for Duane, he stared open mouth at the startlingly striking, blue-violet eyes. He had little doubt that the aversion set in the young man's mind against looking at his own eyes had been placed there in order to make him comply with wearing the tinted contacts, hiding his unusual eye color. His wide, long and thick eye-lashed eyes were remarkable enough that they would be unforgettable to anyone who saw them, especially up close as he was. It would be difficult to hide such rare beauty as the young man possessed in any crowd, and the Integrated were supposed to be ordinary and unassuming and kept out of the spotlight as they resumed life amongst regular citizens. From appearances alone, it was clear to see that Jason/Duo Maxwell was anything but ordinary and unassuming - he was stunning.

The next session they had proved to be just as productive. Jason was placed in yet another hypnotic trance with his body and mind relaxed and open to suggestions. Duane turned on the small tape recorder he'd thought would be useful in recalling the events that were transpiring. Who knew, maybe one day, many years from now, he'd write a book about this experience.

"Who are you?" he began once Jason was under.

"Duo. Duo Maxwell. I may run and I may hide but I never tell a lie." The former gundam pilot's voice was soft, talking as he would if he was deeply asleep.

"I want you to go back in time to where we left off yesterday, Duo. Did you come to Earth with the other gundam pilots?"

"No. I came alone," he insisted.

"That's right," Duane remembered Duo saying the day before that the five teenage pilots were unaware of their counterparts at the time of their simultaneous arrival on earth. "What happened after you landed?"

"I hid Deathscythe and began working on a farm in order to make my presence on Earth seem legit. I'd steal away at night in Deathscythe and did reconnaissance of a nearby base. It was the fifth day dirtside that I observed underwater suits trying to salvage something and that there was a ship above waiting to receive whatever it was they were recovering. I approached them, deciding to make my presence known, and attacked. It was then that I noticed a suit similar to mine, face down on the ocean floor. It was emitting a sound like a self destruct alarm. Since the suit was similar to mine, I easily deactivated it. There didn't seem to be a pilot, so I decided to salvage it for parts."

Duane sat back and listened with rapt attention to the tale the younger man told. He talked about his recovering the other gundam only to come upon a young girl being held a gunpoint by a Japanese boy. He'd shot the boy twice, only to have the crazy girl throw herself in front of him, asking Duo why he wanted to hurt the boy who had just poised a very real threat to her life. Even though he was confused by the situation, Duo soon figured out the other boy was the pilot of the suit that was emerging out of the ocean's depths.

He watched as the 'insane' boy of Japanese heritage jumped onto a couple missiles just before he set them off in an attempt to destroy their gundams that were emerging via remote control about a mile out at sea.

Duo dove into the water to retrieve the boy's body, floating face down in the water. And though he wasn't much of a swimmer himself, he managed to pull the other pilot to a smaller boat landing. He quickly administered mouth to mouth resuscitation and then darted off, leaving the boy unconscious but breathing as military vehicles and an ambulance arrived on the scene.

It was then that Jason spoke of the memories and thoughts of the fourteen year old boy and of the Japanese teenager he was drawn towards. From their first meeting he found himself curious, intrigued and attracted to the pilot known as 01. There seemed no doubt in his mind that he had to recover the captured pilot, just as there had been no doubt about recovering his gundam.

He then recounted the daring escape, of freeing the other pilot who was strapped down on a medical examination table, situated on one of the top floors of a high-rise hospital. The two of them jumped from the Alliance medical building and Duo recounted his horror when the other boy failed to open his parachute until the last minute.

By the end of the hour, Duo's memories had recalled the two of them working together, staying at the same school and becoming friends with the first tentative beginnings of a romantic involvement before being parted as the war escalated. There were several instances where the two met up again, hiding in dorm rooms or on missions, and their budding relationship took root.

Jason's voice was shaky and emotional when he recalled a mission where Heero had gone to attack the enemy by air and Duo had gone to attack by land. It had been a set up, and in horror he'd watched pilot 01 self-destruct after OZ threatened to turn its firepower on the unsuspecting colonies if the gundam pilots didn't surrender. Tears of sorrow fell from the closed eyes just before Duane brought Jason back to the present.

Opening his moisture-filled eyes and with his cheeks damp from their overflow, Jason gave Duane a sorrowful look before he covered his face with his hands and curled up on the driver's seat to give into his sorrow.

The slightly older man watched helplessly as the young man reclaiming his identity silently cried, his slight-framed body was wracked with grief while one of his hands moved through his short-cut hair as if somehow seeking comfort from it.

"Are you all right, Jason?" he asked gently, not unaffected by the other's grief. "You need to go back to work if you can." Duane found himself upset by Jason's unhappiness and stretched out his hand to rub his back in a consoling manner. He was surprised to see Jason shrink back from his touch.

Rubbing both hands over his face, Jason shook his head, indicating to the hypnotist that he needed to come to terms on his own in dealing with his emotions and memories.

Duane didn't want to push him, but he needed to remind Jason of the necessity of not raising the concern of his co-workers. "If you don't go back, they might call your home to see where you are. Scott will find out."

Even those words didn't seem to be having any affect on the distraught young man. Duane noted that the recalling of 01's self destruction was what seemed to have set Jason off, and suddenly he knew what the problem was. Jason was always a bit confused and disoriented between that past and present when he first emerged from his hypnotic trance. "He survived, Jason," Duane told the younger man. "You don't remember at the moment, but pilot 01 survived the war. He went on to fight right alongside you and the other pilots in the second war also."

His words seemed to have an immediate effect as he watched Jason get control of his emotions and successfully calm himself enough to sit up in the seat and straightened himself. With the heels of his hands, Jason hastily wiped the wetness from off his cheeks and away from his eyes, all the while avoiding eye contact with the hypnotist as if he was ashamed to have shown his emotions.

"Are you all right, Jason?" Duane asked, genuinely concerned for the other man.

Taking a deep breath and raising his red-rimmed eyes, Duane was startled to see a new look on the young man's face. A more hardened expression was set on his fair features, and a steely, challenging gleam in his eyes looked dangerous as Jason said firmly, "Call me Duo."

Moments later, Duo was headed back to work with Debra's car keys clenched in his hand. Duane watched him from his own car in the parking lot, noting that there was a sense of purpose in the young man's stride, and the lift of his chin bespoke confidence as he approached the front doors of the busy, public office. Duo, he thought, was going to have to be a damn good actor to hide the fact that he'd recalled who he was. He was certain anyone taking a good look at Jason Phillips couldn't help but see the metamorphosis taking place.

He'd cautioned him of this before he left the car. In return, Duo had looked at him with a determined look in his tinted green eyes and stubbornness visible in the set of his jaw as he gave a nod of his head, acknowledging the warning. He then opened the car door, said 'Thanks, man. See ya tomorrow," then walked off.

Unlocking the door to his own car, Duane sat for a moment, trying to comprehend all that he'd heard and seen in that one hour he'd spent with the other man. He had no doubt that the former gundam pilot, Duo Maxwell, was back to stay, and he'd come with a look of vengeance in his eyes. Starting his car, he paused, considering once again the strong, determined expression on the young man's face just before they parted. "Heaven help whoever it is he goes after," Duane said, then put his car into reverse, feeling grateful that Duo Maxwell saw him as an ally and not a foe.

Continued Soon

Author's note: Thanks to all who review and send encouragement. Your taking the time to do so is much appreciated.


	6. Gone Too Far

Warnings and Disclaimer on page one.

**Integration**

**By: Bane's Desire**

**Chapter 5 - Gone Too Far**

Duo stood before the apartment that out of habit he'd referred to as home, mentally steeling himself for the next few hours. Now realizing who he was and how he came to be here, he literally had to force himself to continue act as if he were still Jason Phillips, the timid, abused young man who was deathly afraid of the man on the other side of the door who called himself his lover.

With his returning memories came all his training and the knowledge of the various methods of torture and killing a man that he could easily apply to his abuser. He couldn't help but wonder who the hell Scott Mercer really was.

He placed his hand against the door frame and rested his forehead wearily against it, enjoying a moment of silence before he went into the apartment. If he dwelled too much on all he'd remembered that afternoon and of what he'd endured from Mercer, understanding now that his miserable life was possibly engineered and sanctioned by a government or agency, he didn't know if he could go through with the charade of being Jason Phillips any longer. His instincts screamed for him to run as far and fast as he could, to hide and then seek out his vengeance in due time. But he couldn't do that, at least not yet. His vengeance, he decided, would come not by running but by stealth and careful planning, and his first step towards that goal was to gather information, not unlike his preparation for missions during the war. He needed to find out if Scott Mercer was really the person he claimed to be. If he were just a man he met on campus or something else, and then he needed to ferret out who was the person responsible for his current living conditions. He also needed a money source, to find out where his money had gone, if there was any left. Scott had collected his paycheck for the entire time they'd been together, and if by any chance he'd put any of it away, he'd need to find it and use the credits to subsidize his revenge and escape.

He paused and let his mind shift again as some of his other, more pleasant memories of the past came to mind, those centering mainly on Heero. He recalled easily now their mutual attraction at their first meeting, an attraction that had quickly turned into something more as the darkness of war pressed in on them. He and Heero had holed up together in a fancy, private school shortly after Heero had been tricked into destroying the shuttle filled with government officials who had argued for peace earlier. General Noventa was one of the unfortunate casualties, a man who had been in the process of urging the leaders of the Alliance and OZ to approach the rebelling colonies in a peaceful, non-violent manner, stressing diplomacy instead of threats and weapons of war. Though Heero hid it well, Duo had been aware that the other pilot struggled with his conscience over his mistake.

The boy from L-2 recalled his initial attempt at consoling the other guilt-ridden pilot with an tentative, almost fearful embrace, not knowing if Heero wanted the physical reassurance. He'd feared that if the other boy didn't want the comfort he extended, the unbelievably strong Wing pilot would seriously hurt him for invading his personal space. To Duo's surprise, that simple gesture had been followed by a tentative, inexperienced first kiss that led to their clumsy, desperate groping as need and hormones kicked in. And so it was that their physical and emotional relationship had begun. Their newfound intimacy had somehow helped them gain back their connection with humanity, something that they had both secretly feared they'd been losing as the war progressed. That intimacy served to ground them to a reality other than their next mission for short periods of time. As he'd drawn closer to Heero, both emotionally and physically, he experienced a gradual return of a sense of hope; hope for success over OZ; hope for peace between the Earth and the colonies; hope for a future that had always seemed uncertain and out of reach. With that return of hope came a determination to keep fighting despite many setbacks plus a reason to see to the end of the war and beyond. His trust in and feelings for the stoic, driven teen from L-1 grew each time they met, and before long he'd realized that he'd given his heart to Heero Yuy. Shortly after he'd come to realize that fact, he'd watched in stunned horror from his communication board in Deathscythe as Heero had stood boldly defiant on the open hatch of Wing and pressed the self-destruct button.

The pain of that loss, the searing hurt, grief and emptiness he'd felt in that one moment back when he was fifteen years old, had been painfully relived that afternoon. All the memories and emotions were as fresh and raw now as they had been all those years ago. He didn't think he could ever go though that kind of anguish and loss again. And even though he didn't recall anything past that point, Duane's assurances that Heero had survived was helping him to cope with his intermingling past and present memories and emotions. He was anxious for his next session with Duane, to fill in the large gap between then and now.

It was on his way home from work, riding on a crowded city bus laden with city workers and shoppers carrying briefcases and holiday packages, that he'd made his decision to keep up the facade of being Jason for a while longer. He was, in a sense, still Jason and had his memories, his fears and insecurities embedded in his mind. He could be Jason again if he had to, even though the thought of it made him nauseous. It was against Duo's nature to be submissive and kicked around like a pitiful dog. He would do it, though, because he was determined to find out about Scott, his motives, and his money - and then he would escape. Once free of his abuser, his tracks covered, he'd search out Heero and the other pilots to see if they'd ended up as badly as he had. But first things first, he thought, and being distracted by his returning memories he inserted the key into the lock of the front door, failing for the first time in two years to check his watch for the time.

Ten minutes after entering the apartment, Duo found himself curled up into a protective ball, clutching his chest as he struggled to deal with the pain in his chest from the abuse Scott Mercer had decided that he deserved as punishment for being late. He'd initially tried to strike back and disable his attacker, but any thought or move to do so was crippled by an excruciating pain in his chest. His only option had been to minimize the damage as the larger man delivered quick, determined and unmerciful blows to his body.

A kick to the back of his thigh was powerfully delivered and incredibly painful, but it seemed to be the final blow when he heard Scott mutter warnings about next time before he stomped away and made for the kitchen.

Duo lay on the carpet, positioned between the couch and the turned-over coffee table, assessing his injuries. At this point in time he'd decided that he'd had it, that his next session with Duane would include a deep search for the debilitating condition that kept him from defending himself. The hypnotist had tried earlier, but they hadn't succeeded in removing it. Duane had suggested that the triggers, if indeed that's what they were, had been implanted after his memories had been removed, and that once they were fully recovered it would be easier to attempt their dismantling. He vowed to himself then and there, curled in a fetal position and in pain, that he would never again endure such a senseless beating. After he'd opened the apartment's front door, he'd been immediately set upon by Scott, or rather Scott's fists. He'd tried to explain his tardiness while he attempted to deflect the merciless blows to his body, that the holiday traffic had been bad and had kept him from arriving home on time. He'd only been nine minutes late.

His thoughts shifted from his anger back to his pain, and from his past injuries he concluded that he probably had a broken wrist, a couple of bruised or fractured ribs, that his swollen left eye hurt like the devil and felt as if his contact had cut into his it before it had popped out of his eye completely. He tasted blood in his mouth and realized he'd bitten either his tongue or lip, or maybe even both, he wasn't sure. In short, he was a mess. He lay still and unmoving, knowing also from previous experience that if he tried to leave the room without permission, that Scott would come at him again. So he lay as still as he could, not wanting to have any more damage inflicted on his body that might impede his future escape. He seethed with hatred for the other man that had rivaled his hatred and thirst for vengeance against the Alliance at the start of the war. The sharp ache in his chest warned him to turn such thoughts elsewhere for the moment, and he unwillingly complied.

Breathing hurt and moving hurt even more, so he waited, since that was all he could do. He spent the next fifteen minutes with his thoughts wandering back to Heero and the other pilots. He vaguely recalled the time when they had come together to battle the Alliance and he'd gotten a glimpse of them on his communication system. Though they'd come to Earth with the unified purpose of attacking the Colonies' oppressors, he hadn't known about any of them. With only a small part of his memories returned, Heero was the person that was fresh in his mind, and with the memory of Wing's pilot came conflicting emotions of love, anger, need, despair, fulfillment and bitterness. He knew he'd come to love the other pilot, but his mind was vague as to whether or not had Heero ever return those feelings? He knew he'd ignited a passion that had been so well hidden within the other stoic, well-trained teen, but Heero had been hard to read and held his emotions close. At the time of Wing's destruction, Duo had still been pondering Heero's feelings for him.

He was so lost in his thoughts of the past that it came as a surprise when a pill was pressed into his mouth. "Get up and go to bed," Scott said in a surprisingly weary tone of voice. He reached down to grab Jason's arm to pull him up to his feet.

"Don't touch me," Duo snapped in alarm, instinctively curling away from the man's out-stretched hand just as Jason would have done. "My arm and ribs are broken."

"Shit!" the Japanese man spat out as he straightened and ran his hands through his thick black hair as he thought about what he should do.

Duo waited for his abuser to come to a decision of either calling a doctor or treating him himself. They both knew that Scott had gone too far this time.

"I'll call Dr. Clark," the other man's voice sounded resigned as he moved to the phone and began dialing the familiar number.

Duo tuned out the majority of the conversation taking place over the phone. Scott was arguing in a low voice with the man Jason had known as Dr. Clark. Over the time that he'd been more or less mentally shackled to his abuser, Dr. Clark had been called frequently to come to their apartment and treat his wounds after Scott caused more damage than he could patch up himself. The physician was also the man who'd treated his heart problem and prescribed the magic pills that seemed to take the pain away almost immediately. Did the prescribed medicine really ease his suffering or was the pain in his chest removed just by the pill being put into his mouth? At this point he found himself questioning every aspect in his so-called life and wondering what was real.

As he lay there waiting for the doctor to come and grateful for being ignored by the other man in the apartment, Duo's mind became jumbled and slightly unfocused as he once again pondered the information he'd gathered since the partial return of his memories. He could barely comprehend the Integration procedure, that his former life had been removed by his consent and that the past that was Jason's family and growing up years had been inserted and the nightmare he was now living began. Why the hell had he ever agreed to being Integrated?

From Jason's memory, he recalled being with Scott for nearly three years, the abuse had begun a little over two years ago. Jason believed he was twenty one, but was he? Or was that belief fabricated also? Maybe the courtship between he and Scott, how they had met, dated and then moved in together was an implanted memory and he was just dumped into the abusive man's life or maybe even mentally set up to need this type of warped relationship. What was real and what was a lie?

He tried to relax as the ache in his head grew steadily worse, and not only as a result from the beating, but from his mind trying to figure out what the hell was going on. If he was twenty one, then a period of four years had passed from the time the last war ended with Deikum Barton having been killed by one of his own soldiers during his attempted coup. He'd gathered that information from the few magazine articles Duane had given him. There were statements from various people, young and old, who claimed to have met one or more of the gundam pilots and had stated that they were young, being sixteen and seventeen years old at the end of the last war.

Without any further memories to aid him, trying to figure out what had happened would be just speculation on his part, and would take too much effort. He decided to drop that line of thought and instead reflected back on his conflicting memories of who he was, a discarded street urchin from L-2 with a background that was the complete opposite of Jason's memories, which consisted of a typical childhood with family, friends, and scheduled events including school, holidays and summer vacations. Yet even as he thought about the details of Jason's life, he realized for the first time that there were gaps in those memories. He couldn't recall the names of teachers or the courses he took in high school or college. And though he remembered that Jason had friends and acquaintances, he couldn't put a face to any of the names that popped randomly into his head. Why hadn't he realized that before? Maybe just trying to survive from day to day while he'd been with Scott had been enough of a distraction to keep him from dwelling on the past. He felt a great loss in knowing that the normal family life he'd thought he'd had as Jason was only an implanted memory meant to cover up his life on L-2 and as a gundam pilot. Jason's fond memory of being the only child of loving parents who died in a car accident one foggy night in a freeway pileup when he was seventeen was all a lie. And even though he knew that as fact, he could still clearly recall the funeral after the death of his made-up parents as well as the grief and the struggle he'd gone thorough in wondering how to go on with his life without them. With the money left to him from life and accident insurance policies, or so he'd thought at the time, Jason had enrolled himself in college - and that's where he met Scott. The memories seemed so... real, but now he knew... they were false, all of them, and it hurt.

As his mind began to slow and his thoughts fade towards sleep, he realized his life as Jason had been like a movie, scripted with normalcy, tragedy, loss and loneliness, all of which had most likely made him susceptible to Scott, an older man who'd come out of nowhere and offered him stability and security along with a home and the attention and affection Jason craved.

Was his abuser in his life because of bad luck on his part, or maybe because of his Integrated personality? Or was the other man in his life for another reason he couldn't understand? Why the hell did he chose a Japanese man to screw up his life anyway? Was choosing Scott Mercer as a lover a decision he'd made himself, or had he been programmed to be susceptible to his strength and domination. Maybe the nightmarish relationship he was in happened because his subconscious mind recalled Heero, and that Scott's slight resemblance to his lover had instinctively drawn him to the older man? Damn, just thinking about all of the different possibilities was making his head spin and his stomach tighten. He felt as if he were two people at the same time, with his new-found memories of being Duo Maxwell fighting to stay dominant over the false, implanted ones that he had of Jason's life. Neither personality within his mind could afford for him to revert completely back to the abused and frightened Jason Phillips. If nothing else was certain, he was positive that one day Scott Mercer would kill him for maybe no other reason than he was late coming home from work.

Whether he blacked out or dozed off, he wasn't sure, but the next thing he became aware of was a deep voice calling Jason's name as if from a great distance. He managed with some effort and reluctance to open his undamaged eye to look blearily up at the bearded face of the man who'd treated Jason many times before.

"Can you give me a damage assessment, Jason?" the doctor, whose voice had been made rough from years of smoking cigarettes, asked the question with a look of concern in his dull, deep-set brown eyes. To the injured young man, the question was phrased in such a way as to sound like it came from a military medic. He wondered for a scant second why he'd never made that connection before. If his memories were correct, the doctor had always been stiff and formal towards him, though not unkind. His posture also had been rigidly impeccable, similar to Scott's. He suddenly realized that they both held themselves like the soldiers he'd observed during the war. Could it be that his caretaker and physician were part of the military? Were they a team set up to keep close tabs on him?

"Jason?" the doctor said sternly.

"I... think my wrist is broken, and that I might have a couple of busted ribs," he replied, his voice just above a whisper as he fought the pain riding rampant through his body. "He might have bruised my kidneys with a couple of blows on my lower back. I think my contact cut into my eye before it popped out. Hurts."

"Try to straighten out if you can and I'll cut your clothes off in order to examine you."

Duo tried to comply, but the pain in his chest from his injured ribs proved to be too much; the mere act of breathing was painful. After several excruciating attempts, he managed to uncurl his body enough for the doctor to use his scissors to cut upwards from the cuff of his shirt and then continued to pull the blade up through the material to the top of his left sleeve to expose the damaged wrist.

"Mercer, you idiot!" the doctor hissed with barely contained anger.

"He came home late again." Scott's unrepentant voice came from the area behind the couch.

"There's no excuse for this. How late could he have been? It's still early."

"Nine minutes," Duo interjected in a pained voice, not willing to let the Japanese man gloss over the facts. "Traffic was bad," he gasped.

The doctor's fingers stopped their painful probe of his wrist, and though his vision was blurred and his body began to tremble from shock, Duo saw the man shoot a threatening glare at his abuser. "Get me a blanket," he ordered sharply. From the corner of his eye, Duo saw the sullen-looking Asian man turn and leave them to do as he was told.

Within moments his shirt had been completely removed and his pleated pants were unfastened at the waist and gently pulled off. Duo watched as the doctor moved his black medical bag closer and set it just behind him. The older man with the grave expression on his prematurely wrinkled face then repositioned himself next to him as he lay helpless and miserable on the carpet now stained with his blood.

"I'm going to attempt to set your arm and it's going to hurt," the doctor informed him with little to no emotion in his voice or on his face. Because of that, it came as a surprise to Duo when he added, "I'm sorry."

He looked up through eyes that were blurred and attempted to study the doctor for a moment. The older man was Caucasian with faded dark-blond hair that was receding at his temples and thinning on top. For as long as Jason had known the man, he'd worn a bushy, light brown mustache that fell slightly over a pair of lips that he'd never seen smile. The man's blue eyes looked unhappy, the wrinkles between his forehead and those at the corners of his eyes were deeply furrowed.

"Report him," Duo said quietly, careful that Scott wouldn't overhear. "Don't let him keep doing this to me."

The doctor looked into his damaged eyes but said nothing for a moment. When he did speak, he issued a warning. "On three. Prepare yourself."

Duo braced himself mentally for the pain he knew was coming. He clamped his teeth together and pressed his lips tightly shut as the doctor positioned himself to make the correction. The quick, strong snap of his arm in a downward jerk shot a jolt of blinding pain through his injured arm and to the rest of his body. Flashes of light behind his closed eyes quickly dimmed into blessed darkness as the cry of pain that escaped from his lips turned into a declining moan that melted into silence.

When he came back to an awareness of his surroundings, Duo found himself in the hated bed that he shared nightly with his abuser. A quick inspection revealed that his arm had been set and placed in a temporary plastic casing and his ribs were tightly wrapped. His eyes stung as if some solution had been dropped into them. As for the pain, he found that he hurt everywhere and swore to himself that one day soon he would get his revenge on Scott Mercer for his senseless brutality. He wisely kept the image of strangling his so-called lover out of his brain, knowing all too well of the pain such thoughts would bring, and he certainly didn't need anymore of that today.

He heard the sound of footsteps a moment before the bedroom door opened; the sound allowed him time to close his eyes and feign sleeping. Through his long eye lashes he could see it was Dr. Clark who was checking on him.

"He's still out," the doctor reported to someone Duo presumed to be Scott. The doctor's head withdrew out from the doorway and he left the door partially open as he continued speaking in a low and angry voice that Duo could easily hear. "I'm reporting this, Mercer. There's no way I can cover up for your abuse any longer. It's a travesty. He didn't agree to this at the beginning when he negotiated the terms of his Integration."

"You know well and good those 'terms' changed when he broke his first Integration conditioning," Scott replied harshly. "He terminated that agreement when he regained his memories and had 01's memories restored as well, knowing it was against the law."

"It still doesn't justify the way you treat him. It's illegal and immoral."

"He's rebellious. It's up to me to see that he stays in his current Integrated state and oversee his care. Agent Fire himself gave me this mission with instruction to reassure the Sanq big wigs that he wouldn't regain his memory again." Listening closely, Duo noted that Scott sounded defensive and self-righteous at the same time, something the other man seemed to have a real talent for.

"I don't think your supervisor had any idea this would be going on. And I'm more than sure that the higher ups in the Preventers didn't give you license to rape and beat your charge whenever he makes a slight mistake. Good God, man, he was nine minutes late, not AWOL. The traffic out there is horrible this time of year. Have you no common sense that tells you he'll be late once in a while because of it, especially during the holiday season? My report will be filed in the morning. Expect to be hearing from headquarters shortly after that."

"Then you'd better turn in your resignation as well," Scott shot back hotly in reply. "You've covered up for me all this time. You're as guilty by your silence as I am."

"Go to hell, Mercer," the doctor spat out, then a moment later the sound of the front door slamming announced the physician's exit. That departure left Duo alone once again with the man who, if he understood from what he'd just overheard, had been assigned by the Preventers organization to 'take care of him' and that Scott, by his actions, showed that the other man had never loved him, as Jason's memories claimed, but that he truly hated him, probably almost as much as he hated Scott in return.

The apartment was unusually quiet, not even the television was on to break the silence. Still, it was difficult for him to go back to sleep after overhearing that conversation, even though he could feel the pull of drugs in his body to do so. The previous conversation was repeated over and over in his mind. From what he could put together from it, he'd somehow escaped the Integration's false memories once before and had freed Heero from his also. He wondered what had happened, how he'd gotten his memory back and how he'd come to be subjected to the hell he now lived in. It went without saying that he couldn't ask the doctor or Scott to answer his questions. He could only guess that he'd failed in escaping the authorities after gaining his memory, something he was determined would not happen the second time around. This time he would be smarter and subtle. If possible, he would take his time and carefully plan his escape from his life as Jason Phillips. If only he could find out what had happened before, he could avoid the mistakes of the past. His best bet for that lay in Duane. He had faith that his new friend would be able to help him recall the past that seemed to become more and more complicated with each passing day.

He supposed that he must have moaned or called out in his sleep, for as he became aware of his surroundings once again, Scott was lifting his head and putting a pill into his mouth and a glass of water to his lips while telling him it was pain medication left by Dr. Clark. Duo took it, as Jason would, then watched with relief from under his eyelashes as Scott left the bedroom. With his body aching, his wrist and ribs throbbing, he slowly let himself ease back into sleep, temporarily leaving his painful reality behind. He needed to rest in order to recover from this last beating. He knew that even before he could recover fully, he'd begin to search out the answers to the many questions bouncing around inside his head. Once he had his answers, he could plan his revenge and then escape this brutal life forever. With his righteous anger turned onto those who had brought this damned, abusive existence about, he would remind them that such dishonorable actions could only reap terrifying consequences from a vengeful Shinigami.

Continued soon


	7. Pushing It

Disclaimer and Warnings: They're all on the front page.

**Integration**

**Bane's Desire**

**Chapter 6 - Pushing It**

The throbbing of his head and body from his newly acquired injuries were the first sensations he became aware of as his sluggish brain awoke. Opening his eyes to the tightly shuttered room, he wrapped one arm around his taped ribs and cautiously eased himself up to sit at the edge of the bed, his mouth dry and tacky with the need for water. As the room spun around in dizzying circles, he closed his eyes again and tried to put his head down, though not able to bend anywhere close to his knees, as he stove to gain some of his balance and quell the nauseousness that came with sitting up. Slowly opening his pained eyes once more, he strained to focus his vision on the digital clock sitting on the bedside table and he thought the red numbers displayed the time as being ten twenty... something or other. Moving slowly and carefully, keeping his splintered arm raised and pressed to his chest, he made his way to the closet where he took out a pair of slacks and a loose-fitted sweater that would stretch easily across his body - that is if he could manage to get it over his head.

"What do you think you're doing?" Scott's irritated voice came from the direction of the bedroom door and startled him with its suddenness.

"I'm late for work," he replied, albeit weakly as he kept moving and avoided looking up at the other man.

"I called in for you this morning. Told them you were sick."

"I have to go in," Duo insisted, keeping his head down as his memories of Jason indicated he should. "It's the last day of work before Christmas. If I don't make an appearance, they'll all come here," Okay, that was stretching the truth, but he had to get out of there and meet Duane. "Neither of us wants that, do we?" He tried to keep the derogatory sneer out of his voice but realized he'd probably failed. "Why aren't you at work?" After saying that, it dawned on him that Jason hadn't verbally questioned Scott about his job as an insurance broker beyond what the other man had told him, and that he hadn't actually seen him leave the apartment for work or even arrive home from his so-called office. Sure, he'd been given a sketchy description of the job with an reputable insurance brokerage that his so-called lover claimed to have, located somewhere downtown. Still, Jason had never been invited there to see it for himself. But now that he thought about it, especially in context to the conversation he'd overheard the night before, Scott had never spoken of the people he worked with. His abuser supposedly left for work after he did in the morning and was always home when he returned in the evening. Duo now wondered if the man had a job at all. The only thing that indicated he was employed was the fact that they seemed to have enough money for their up-scale apartment and necessities.

"I took a vacation day thinking you might need me."

"Like a hole in the head," Duo muttered just under his breath as he took his clothes to the unmade bed.

"What did you say?" Scott sounded angry again.

"I said I can't make the bed." Duo pointed to his splintered arm.

"I'll get it," the other man grudgingly replied as he moved in that direction. "Your condition will warrant unwanted speculation and questions if you go to work today," he added.

"I'll say I fell down the stairs... again." A slight derisive snort followed.

"Look... I'm sorry," Scott began, clearly irritated by the situation.

"Save it." Duo knew from Jason's memories that he was treading dangerous ground to interrupt Scott, but he really didn't want to hear his trite, insincere apology. "If you don't mean it, just don't say anything."

He managed to put on his trousers one handed, not bothering with his boxers, deeming them too difficult to pull on. He made sure, however, that he was clear of the zipper as he began the struggle of zipping it up. He definitely did not want to ask the other man for his help with that task.

"You're going to cause us trouble," Scott remarked while making up the bed and keeping an eye on the struggling young man. "Dr. Clark said you can't wear your contacts for several weeks."

"I'll wear the tinted glasses, Scott, but this last beating just isn't going to go unnoticed. My injuries aren't going to disappear overnight and I have a job and responsibilities. My co-workers are going to see evidence of the beating either today or the day after Christmas. It won't really matter if it's now or later, will it? Today or in a couple of days, it's all the same. I'd rather deal with it now than worry about it over the holiday."

"Watch it," Scott warned, his expression as dark as his menacing voice at his usually passive lover's comments and attitude.

"I'd rather confront my co-workers at the office instead of here," Duo sighed, changing his tone of voice, still hoping to rationalize his way out of the apartment. "I might be able to diffuse the situation one more time. But I can see it in their eyes every time I go to work with yet another bruise that they're getting ready to intervene."

"You can't let that happen, can you, Jason?" There was an unspoken but very real threat behind Scott's words.

Duo looked up and paused a moment, his breath catching in his throat for a scant second as he momentarily caught a glimpse of Heero in the Japanese man's stubborn stance, the tilt of his chin and the arms folded over his chest. The idea came to him that Scott might have been chosen to 'take care of him' because of his resemblance to his former lover. If that were the truth, the reasoning might possibly have been that, if by some freak chance he recalled some memory of his lover, he would transfer that memory to Scott since they looked somewhat similar. The very idea made him feel even more angry when considering the lengths the Preventers had gone to in order to keep him trapped in his Integration.

"If you insist on going in, I'll drive you," Scott said firmly, possibly trying to gain some control over the situation.

The struggle with the large sweater proved to be a painful one. By the time he finally pulled it over his head and chest, his arm protectively tucked snugly against his chest inside the sweater, his ribs, arm and head ached abominably. Grudgingly, he accepted Scott's help in getting his jacket placed over his shoulders and allowed the other man to lead him to his car and then drive him across town to his place of employment.

As the car moved through the busy city streets, duo frequently checked the clock embedded in dashboard, noting it was nearly noon as they neared the Chicago Department of Motor Vehicles. Pulling into the parking lot, he quickly looked around to see if Duane was in sight. He certainly didn't want Scott to become suspicious about his activities by having the other man greet him in the parking lot. It was early yet and he noted with some relief that Duane wasn't in sight.

"Do you want me to wait?"

Duo jumped slightly at the sudden and unexpected question. "Um...no. I'll catch a ride home with a co-worker. The holiday traffic might be bad again, but I'll come straight home, alright?" Without looking in the other man's direction, he could feel Scott's eyes boring into him. His hands gripped the door handle as he anxiously waited the moment he could escape the car and the other man.

"No later than six forty-five," Scott said firmly, and there was a smugness in his warning that made Duo's stomach curl. He fought down the urge to reach over and wipe the equally smug grim off his face with his fist, broken wrist or not. That visual thought brought a sharp pain within his chest, strengthening his resolve to have that trigger removed as soon as possible.

"I'll do my best," he answered, and as quickly as his injuries allowed, he exited the car, shutting the door behind him. Turning away from it, he headed for the front doors of his work place, watching in the reflection of the windows as Scott's car began to pull away from the curbside.

Stepping inside the busy lobby, he stayed by the door and waited until the metallic green car disappeared from sight then walked back out into the frigid cold. If at all possible, he wanted to keep his presence and his beat-up condition unknown to his co-workers for the time being. The only thing he wanted to do today was to meet up with Duane and advance the rate of his memory's return.

Moving slowly, he paced the exterior of the red-brick DMV building, trying to keep warm while surreptitiously watching the people entering and exiting the busy establishment. As they passed by him, many looked at him with expressions of worry, sadness or disgust on their faces. Duo realized that he probably look a mess with his swollen and bruised eye, his split lip, unbrushed hair, and his body movements stiff from unseen wounds. Even with his tinted glasses in place, he knew it was probably obvious that he'd been physically abused. The part of him that was Jason cringed at their critical assessment of him, of their judgment, but as Duo Maxwell, it made him mad as hell.

A silver sports car that he recognized as Duane's drove up to the curb and stopped where he stood. The window slid down to reveal the hypnotist. "What in the world happened to you?" Duane asked with a horrified look on his face.

Unable to bend over to properly address the other man because of his taped ribs, Duo replied by saying, " We'll need to use your car today unless you want to go in and get Deb's key."

Duane leaned farther over into the passenger seat to get a better look at the younger man. "You're hurt," he said.

"I'll survive," was Duo's curt reply.

Duane put the car in park in the yellow zone and climbed out of the driver's seat and walked around it to stand beside Duo, his eyes taking in the obviously injured young man. "Holy shit!" he hissed seeing the damage to his face and the pained stance of his body. "Did he do this to you?"

Duo nodded, feeling exposed talking to the other man about his condition when people were passing them by with expressions of curiosity on their faces. "I want to speed the process up, Duane, and I have until six tonight to do it. Can you take time off of work today to help me?"

The other man paused for only a brief moment before he nodded. "I was off at noon today because of the holiday. We can go to my apartment if you like. It's too cold out here to be in the car that long and we'll both be more comfortable there."

Duo tried to think of an alternative, but couldn't. He was cautiously hesitant about going alone into the home of a man he didn't know very well in his current vulnerable state. But Duane had done nothing to warrant his natural distrust. In fact, he'd already proven that he trusted the man more than he normally would by letting himself be put into a hypnotic trance and revealing his true past to him. He couldn't really see that he had much choice because he was damn sure he was never going to let Scott lay a hand on him again and he couldn't follow through on that promise to himself if he wasn't free from the crippling mental triggers. "Let's go," he said, looking at Duane with a steady and determined glance, silently telling the man that he did trust him. "If you have a cell phone, I need to call Deb and tell her where I am, just in case Scott calls to check up on me. She can answer my phone if he does and make up some excuse as to why I can't come to the phone."

Duane opened the car door and stood back to watch as the younger man painfully eased himself into the low, front car seat. "My cell is in the glove box. Go ahead and use it."

With his right hand, Duo got the phone out but sat still while Duane got into the driver's seat, shut his door and looked pointedly at him. "Seatbelt?"

"My left arm is broken, I can't manage it."

With his jacket thrown over his shoulders, Duane had missed the fact that his left arm was tucked under sweater. "I'll do it for you," he offered.

"Don't even think about it," Duo hissed a warning at the well-intentioned man. "I've got a couple of damaged ribs, too. At the moment, a seat belt might just kill me."

Duane didn't argue but reigned in his anger about the damage to the younger man and pulled his own seatbelt on, then put the car into first gear. Releasing the parking brake, he eased his car through the busy parking lot and began the short journey to his apartment while Duo managed to call his co-worker and friend and relay his intentions to her. He listened to one side of the conversation, gathering that Deb apparently guessed in part as to what had happened in order for Duo to miss work. The injured young man then spent a couple of minutes trying to assure his friend that he was well enough to meet Duane and that he'd call her when he could.

After ending the call, there were a few moments of awkward silence, and the injured man was aware of Duane looking at him from out of the corner of his eye. The car remained uncomfortably quiet before the black-haired man finally spoke. "Why did he do it?"

Duo sighed, the slight movement bringing pain to his injured chest. "Because I was nine minutes late getting home from work last night."

"Shit." Duane's hands gripped the steering wheel tight enough for his knuckles to turn white.

Duo turned his head to look at the upset man. "I need you to give me back all my memories today and to get rid of this subconscious trigger that won't let me fight back, even to defend myself. No matter what I've done in the past, I don't deserve this."

"No one does," Duane said, his lips tightly compressed with barely suppressed anger. "We'll see what we can do, but like I told you..."

"Yeah, I know," Duo interrupted. "You're not a trained professional." He then turned in his seat, with no little effort, to speak more earnestly to the other man. "But you're all I've got, Duane. You and Debra. And I swear to you that I'll find some way to pay you back for all you're doing to help me."

Duane nodded his head, his eyes focused on the road and traffic. "All I ask is that you try to keep mine and Debra's names a secret, especially if you're found out. I value my freedom."

Duo nodded in agreement. "As do I." He ran his uninjured hand through his short hair again and sighed wearily. "I remembered the other day that I had a braid and why I kept it," he said quietly. There was a sadness to his voice that caused the other man to quickly glance over at him. "My hair was so long that I could sit on it," he said, and the sadly wistful added, "So in order to keep it out of the way, I wore it in a braid." He frowned as he lay his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. "I just can't believe they cut it or that I ever agreed to it. It was a tangible reminder of my past. It held my memories and was my personal memorial to those I've lost."

"If it was that long, they probably cut it because it was your trademark," Duane guessed. "There's bound to be people you knew during the war or came into contact with that would recognize you or be able to track you down if you had kept it."

The forlorn -looking young man nodded, realizing Duane was right, but he couldn't help but mourn the long-lost symbol of his past. He closed his eyes and became lost once more in his memories, so much so that he didn't realize they'd reached their destination until Duane pulled into a ritzy apartment building's parking garage. The hypnotist parked his car, then got out and helped him to ease out of the low-set seat. Sweat broke out on his forehead from the pain caused by the simple effort to stand on his two feet once again. Feeling lightheaded and slightly nauseous, he allowed Duane to take his elbow and guide him to the garage elevator.

"Nice place," he said, eyeing the modern interior of the apartment building's hallways. He gave a nod of appreciation at the spacious corridors that had expensive-looking chairs and tables sporadically lining the walls that were decorated with chrome sconces that illuminated the walls and the framed prints of paintings done by renaissance artists. "You either have a hell of a day job or I need to learn how to hypnotize people at parties," Duo said, as they reached the handsomely carved door to Duane's apartment.

Duane laughed, a sound Duo realized he hadn't heard before. "I'm afraid neither of my dubious professions could afford this place. It comes as a gift from my grandmother."

"She's loaded, huh?"

"You could say that," the other man answered, "and then you'd still come up short of her monetary worth."

The black-haired man then unlocked and opened the door to his apartment and ushered his guest inside.

"She decorate it, too?"

"I don't think she trusted me to do it myself," Duane said with good humor. "There are, after all, people in places like this to impress. I'm afraid the old girl would be very disappointed in me to know that none of my neighbors have ever been inside my apartment. Working weekends kind of puts a kink in my social calendar."

Duo nodded, listening, but also looking at the apartment's interior. It looked like something out of the magazine, Design Interior. A professional definitely put the picture-perfect room together. The clean-cut lines of the furniture, tan and black in color, added to the total effect that was masculine, modern and appealing if not inviting atmosphere of the room. He walked over to take a closer look at the pictures on the wall, and unless he was mistaken, they looked like originals. The whole place screamed of big money.

Duane walked towards the kitchen and called over his shoulder, "Hungry?"

"I could eat something," Duo answered, following him into the next room. "I don't want to put you out or anything, but at the moment I think I can only eat soft foods. My teeth feel kind of loose."

Duane paused a moment to think about what was in his refrigerator and frowning at hearing about yet another of the other man's unseen injuries. "I've got some leftover penne in the refrigerator. I could heat it up in the microwave and cut up for you in smaller pieces. Would that work?"

"Yeah, I think that would be alright," Duo answered, then eased himself down into a chair situated at the kitchen table.

Within minutes a hot plate of food was placed before him and Duo chewed each bite minimally before swallowing the portion almost whole. A glass of milk chased it down. With the last swallow, he looked to his host. "Alright, I'm ready if you are. Like I said, I want all my memories returned today."

Duane's frown deepened as he picked up both plates and put them in the sink to wash later. "I really don't know if that's wise. I think it would be more prudent to go slow and let you adjust a little bit at a time."

"I don't have time to go slow," Duo insisted a bit testily, his anxiousness showing in his face. "Either I free myself from Scott, or he's eventually going to kill me. And I'll be damned if I'm going to let him lay a hand on me again."

The slightly older man nodded. "Come on then, let's go into the living room and get comfortable. This is going to take awhile."

Within minutes, Duo found himself reclined on the couch with pillows, designed more for appearance than function, being propped around him by Duane in an effort to make him more comfortable. Once he was set in place, Duane quickly put the battered young man into a deep, hypnotic trance and took his mind back to where they left off.

"Who are you?" The hypnotist asked.

"Duo. Duo Maxwell."

"That's correct. You are Duo Maxwell, pilot of Gundam 02."

"Deathscythe," Duo whispered, a smile coming to his face.

"Duo, I want you to go back to where we left off yesterday. You recalled the battle leading up to pilot 01 self destructing. I want you, for the time being, to forget the pain and anguish you felt at that moment and reach past it to remember what happened next. I want you to recall your interactions with the other pilots and the battles that took place, but this time I want you to remember them in rapid succession, all the events of the war leading up to the moment just after the section of Libra was destroyed as it entered Earth's atmosphere."

"I was in the desert, in a sandstorm when another gundam pilot called out to me, offering me sanctuary," Duo began in his whispered voice. "Pilot 04, his name is Quatre, Quatre Winner. His gundam was called Sandrock. He's small, like me, and he's kind and... polite. He listened to me talk about Heero and comforted me when I broke down." A perplexed expression formed on his face. "I don't know what he's doing fighting in this war. He's too innocent to be a killer and apologizes to everyone he has to destroy."

Duane sat and listened to the young man's flowing commentary and inquired once in a while as to a specific event or person as Duo recalled the people he'd met, including the other gundam pilots, and the places he'd visited while carrying out his missions.

To outward appearances, Duo looked as if he was in a deep REM sleep. His eyes moved under his eyelids as his memories were recalled. From time to time, and especially during described scenes of battles, he'd twitch, gasp, curse or cry out in alarm or with a battle cry.

As minutes turned into hours, Duane found that he had studied every inch of the face of the young man who'd sought his help. It was undeniable that Duo Maxwell was an extremely handsome young man. His skin, minus the bruises and unshaved stubble, was flawless, free of blemish or large pores. His eyes, when open and not battered, were large and the blue/violet color was stunning. He admitted to himself that if he weren't a true heterosexual, he'd probably be attracted to the former gundam pilot. It was still hard to believe someone of such small stature could have had such a violent past and an important role in the last two wars. But no matter how frail Duo now appeared, the hypnotist had seen the gleam of strength and the determination of character that glowed from the boy's eyes as his memories returned. It was obvious the people who Integrated Duo Maxwell had purposely buried the boy's strength of character deeply into his subconscious and implanted a frightened, emotionally handicapped personality in its place.

His attention was turned back to the injured young man as his body began to thrash on the couch, caught up in a violent memory. Duo's breathing was becoming more rapid and accompanied by grunts of exertion. Duane wondered if he was recalling a battle or if he was engaged in a romantic tryst.

"Heero!" The name burst from Duo's lips. "Blast the damn thing!"

Duane smiled. Guess that answered his question. A smile then graced the handsome though battered face, and Duo sighed, "Thank God." He then added with a touch of awe in his voice, "He did it. It's over and we're all still alive."

Duane took that as his clue and addressed his young friend once again. "What was the last thing you recalled, Duo?"

In an emotionally-filled voice, the young man answered while still in his hypnotic state, his voice hitching as he struggled not to break down completely. "Heero destroyed the large chunk of Libra that had broken away during battle and was falling towards Earth. He's coming back, coming back to me. The war is over."

"I want you to relax, Duo, and remember everything that you've recalled so far. When I count to three, you will awaken."

On three, Duo slowly blinked his eyes open, and it was obvious he was having trouble focusing. Then locking eyes with Duane, a smile grew on his face, only to fade a moment later.

"How do you feel?" Duane asked, studying the pale and bruised face. "You were under for a long time."

"I feel like I've had the rug pulled out from under me," Duo answered. Then suddenly, his eyes began to tear up and a look of sorrow clouded his face.

The hypnotist watched with growing concern, wondering, not for the first time, if he was doing the right thing. "Would it have been better to leave the past alone, Duo?"

The younger man shook his head slightly while struggling to compose himself. "No," he whispered. "The war was real and it's given me a lifetime's worth of nightmares," he began. "But I can't regret it as it brought me to Heero." He swallowed hard as he tried to push down the overwhelming sense of loss he suddenly felt at Heero's prolonged absence.

"When he flew out of the Earth's atmosphere, alive and intact, I don't think I've ever known such happiness." Duo looked at the dark-haired man sitting next to him and said softly, "I love him, even though I'd sworn to myself never to love anyone again because I always lost the people I cared about. But how can anyone deny something so... strong, so right? he asked, his eyes bright with his memories. "It was as if we balanced each other. When I was weak, he was strong for me. What few traits he lacked, I excelled in. We were like two sides of the same coin, different yet the same."

He paused in his speech to wipe his hands across his cheeks, taking away the excess wetness that had gathered there, careful to not touch his swollen and bruised eye. He then turned those red-rimmed orbs to look to the other man, pleading for understanding and answers. "How in the hell could I have ever given that up?" he asked. "You said the Integration was voluntary. Why would I have ever given up a life with Heero?"

"I don't know," Duane answered with sympathy for the young man's unanswered questions. "But we're not done yet. You have more memories of the year between the two wars, the Barton conflict and the time until you agreed to be Integrated."

"What time is it?" Duo looked around the room for a clock.

"Just after three." Duane pointed to his watch.

"Let's keep going then," Duo said resolutely. "Do you think you can remove the mental trigger to my heart problem, because now that I have most of my memories back, I know that I've never had one. I was so healthy I defied L-2's plague and diseases. A walking miracle Professor G called me."

"I've never tried anything like removing a mental block or trigger before," the other man answered, sounding unsure about his ability to do so. "It might be better to do that after all your memories have returned."

"Like I said before, we need to do it today," Duo said, resolute.

"Then we have less than three hours to complete the task. If you have to be home by six thirty as usual, we'll need to leave here by six because of the traffic. I'll drive you home, of course."

"I'm not going back there unless you can lift that pain trigger. I refuse to let that bastard abuse me in any way ever again."

"Duo," Duane leaned forward and to earnestly entreat the other man to reconsider. "I'm concerned that the rapid returning of your memories can cause mental or emotional damage. I don't want to cause you any more pain than you've already suffered."

"And what do you think Scott's been doing to me for who knows how long?" Duo asked hotly. "Do you think being beaten and sexually assaulted by someone I despise is good for my health?"

"No," Duane replied, his tone subdued and mentally cringing at the violent picture Duo painted of his life. "I just don't want you to be hurt any more. It seems that recalling your past is doing just that."

The deep blue eyes closed for a moment. "I'm a survivor, Duane. No matter what the truth of my past is, even if it's painful, it's got to be better than what I've gone through since being Integrated."

Duane nodded, not knowing the correct thing to say in response to Duo's statement. "I can only imagine what you've gone through. I don't know if I would have bounced back as well as you if our places were reversed."

Duo held out his good arm. "Pull up the sleeve of my sweater," he told the other man. Duane frowned, but put his hands on the sleeve and pushed the cotton material up to Duo's wrist, revealing the puckered scar across the pale wrist. "I did try to escape, but it seems my heart, or at least I'm led to believe its my heart, reacts strongly whenever I attempt any form of violence against Scott or myself. I passed out on the bathroom floor before I could finish the job properly and Scott found me."

Duane ran his finger over the old scar in a contemplative manner, his compassion for the younger man was now as strong as his commitment to see him free. He looked up into the sad but steadfast eyes returning his gaze. "All right, let's finish this."

TBC

Author's note: Thanks to all who have reviewed. Your comments have kept me going.


	8. Eyes Wide Open

Disclaimer and warnings on first page of this story.

**Integration**

**By: Bane's Desire**

**Part 7 - Eyes Wide Open**

Five minutes after Duane had given Duo a drink and helped him off the sofa so that he could use the restroom, the younger, limping man returned to the living room. After carefully settling himself back down on the couch once again, they resumed the long, extended session with the injured man again going easily into a hypnotic state of suggestion.

The memories seemed to come much more easily now and Duane listened intently to the few things that Duo mumbled as the past was set free and rushed back from the recesses of the former gundam pilot's mind. It was more than obvious that he and pilot Zero One, often referred to by Duo as Heero, had continued with their partnership after the first war concluded. They'd moved together into an apartment on L-1 and tired to fit into that colony's everyday existence by finding part-time jobs and enrolling in a local school with a plan to enter college within a year's time. Some of Duo's more personal experiences left Duane's face flushed with embarrassment as he overheard some of the more tender moments the younger man recounted between himself and Heero. He whispered in soft and warm tones many loving and suggestive words and sentiments that Duane was sure were only meant to be heard by Duo's lover.

Memories of the second war began with Duo mumbling something about Relena Peacecraft having been kidnaped. Duane, of course, had previously read in detail about the short-lived, Deikum Barton/Mariemaia Kushrenada attempted coup, and having watched several episodes on the History Channel about it, made it easy to follow along with Duo's laconic narrative, recounting events that had transpired during that time.

Once again, the second, brief war ended with Duo's lover's well-being brought into question. Even under hypnosis, the younger man's face reflected his horror at having watched his partner's gundam fall to Earth after being blasted by the fortress below him that had been the enemy's stronghold.

Duane gave a quick glance to the clock above his fireplace, sitting on the ornately-carved oak mantle. It was five minutes after five; time was running out.

"Duo," he interrupted the dreamer's thoughts. "I want you to recall the time just after Heero's hospital stay and what happened from then up until you submitted to the Integration procedure."

The younger man's face went from being slack to creased with a confused frown. "Tell me briefly what happened," Duane urged, curious to know what had gone on during the time he remembered very well, when a few of Earth's governments demanded that the gundam pilots be tried by a court of law and forced to pay for their war crimes.

"We couldn't hide after Barton's attempted coup," Duo began, his voice barely above a whisper. "Heero was injured and we had to stay with Relena in Sanq until he fully recovered and we could travel back to L-1."

"Where you lived before?"

Duo nodded, then continued. "Relena has always liked Heero." His frown deepened and his face took on an unhappy expression. "He trusts her enough for us to stay in her home. She's made it perfectly clear that she doesn't like me or my involvement with Heero. Despite knowing about our relationship, she makes subtle passes at him at least once a day, mostly to tick me off, I think. Heero and I have been arguing a lot about it lately. He insists he doesn't want her, doesn't love her, that he only feels that way about me." The younger man's face became a portrait of worry as he continued. "But I'm scared that I'm going to lose him. After all, what does an L-2 street brat have to offer compared to a princess?"

Duo's eyebrows furrowed deeper as he recalled more of that time. "We'd been watching the news and knew what was going on - the demands from a couple of influential countries that we be tried for war crimes. Relena came home one day and told us we were not to leave her home by orders of the court. The other pilots showed up one by one reporting to us that the government had put them under house arrest also. We aren't totally innocent," he scoffed, sounding bitter, "but it really sucks to have the people you helped save turn their backs on you. From the news reports it seems like the whole damn planet forgot we saved their fucking asses - twice." His indignant tone faded and he sighed wearily. "At least the colonies seem to be our allies, fighting for our freedom this time. Nice turn around, don't ya think?"

Continuing without a pause for an answer, Duo said, "We were surprised when Zechs joined the party. Seems his actions during the first war were also going to be addressed. We're pretty much lumped together as the bad guys even though we fought against each other during the first war and then as allies during the last one.

"Relena's taking center stage again," he snorted and shook his head as his mind kept moving forward. "I think that's a place she loves to be, in the middle of a whirlpool with all the spotlights focusing on her while she takes charge of everyone and everything." He then lowered his voice and added in a conspiring manner, "But don't tell Heero I said that. We don't see eye to eye about that girl or her motives." His voice and manner turned back to normal as he continued. "Anyway, she tells us she's trying to negotiate with the dissenting governments for our release and then between the colonies and Earth as things heat up about our futures." He paused a moment and his eyes moved rapidly back and forth under his eye lids as past memories flashed in his mind. "She's come to us again with some farfetched idea of being Integrated as a way to defuse the situation. We've all read about it being done in America, so we know what she's asking."

"What's your reaction to that?" Duane asked.

"I don't want to do it," Duo answered, suddenly sullen. "If my memories are taken away, who will remember all my dead? I fought for them and I want to live for them as well. How can I do that if they're buried deep within my mind?"

"And the others? How do they feel about it?"

Several moments passed before the answer came. "No one seems too excited about it, but..." he paused to take in more information. "The guys think that this could be the solution to a couple of our problems," he said, his face a picture of seriousness. "None of us sleep well. We all have our own nightmares to deal with, things that we wish we could forget. Wufei's the first to agree with the plan. He wants to be rid of the memories of his colony blowing up in front of him. He lost everyone in that moment, his family and clan, his teachers and his friends. Guess I can't blame him for wanting to forget that."

He paused for a moment, assimilating the memories rushing back. "Trowa and Quatre say they want to go along with it also. Trowa's past is almost as dark as my own, with no family and having been a child mercenary. Quatre is haunted by visions of his father's death. He's also riddled with guilt over having destroyed a colony while under the influence of Wing Zero. He almost killed Trowa during that time." He shook his head. "I guess nightmares aren't exclusive to the poor, that even the rich have them."

"And Heero?"

Duo's face turned sorrowful. "He says the only thing he wants to remember about his past is me, and if the doctors could give us new memories and lives that include each other, then he agrees with the others." Dejectedly he added, "I was out voted."

"Did they force you to agree to the procedure?"

"No," his answer was quiet and subdued. "But I don't want to spend my days in prison while Heero is turned into someone else and living without me. I figure I can tell my story about L-2 and the people who lived and died there to some reporter, then they won't be entirely forgotten. They've promised that Heero and I will be together, with memories of happy childhoods and attending college together and falling in love. I can see that Heero wants that kind of life, so I'll do this... for him."

Duo swallowed several times, his Adam's apple bobbing with each one while the eyes beneath the closed eyelids moved rapidly. "The shrinks who are going to take us through the Integration procedure have agreed that not only will Heero and I not be separated, but that Quatre and Trowa, who are also lovers, can be together as well and with us in school also, if that's what they want. We've also asked that Wufei be part of our circle of friends in our new life, which they've again agreed to. On a sheet of paper it looks well planned out and acceptable, and I think it's kinda cool that the colonies have sent a representative to act on our behalf. She got us a lawyer so our requests are put on paper along with our consent to the Integration procedure and our terms of agreement regarding it. The legal papers are to be recorded with the courts of Sanq."

"Duo," Duane interrupted the younger man. "Do your remember being Jason?"

"Yes."

"Separate from Duo?"

"Yes."

"Is Jason's life the one you agreed to?"

Duo's eyebrows creased together. "No."

"Are any of the other pilots in Jason's life?"

"No."

Duane felt anger and outrage surging within him that Duo had been lied to and obviously wrongfully treated. He couldn't help but ask himself why. He and the other pilots had agreed to the complaining governments' request, undergone the Integration process to keep the peace, only to be thoroughly screwed over.

Duo began speaking about the past again without prompting. "Heero and I are to be college students, lovers since our first meeting at a party. We're going to retain our intelligence and have memories of happier childhoods. Lady Une is to stand as my guardian as both of our parents will be remembered as being deceased, with Heero's folks dying in a plane crash and mine in a car wreck. Wufei is going to be set up as Heero's only relative, a second cousin. I'm to be Chad Westbrook, a kid from an upper class family with all the privileges that go with it, living with Lady Une who's to be my godmother and guardian. Heero is going to be Kai Ozuka, son of a successful business man, and Wufei, Ken Wong, the last of his family's line. Their guardians will be Lucretia Noin and Sally Poe."

"And the other three?"

"They're to have similar aliases, but they haven't told me the specifics." His face appeared perplexed. "Funny, Quatre is usually so open with me about things, but he hasn't gone into any details, only saying that he'll probably be living and working on L-4 after his time in college with us as his family is reluctant to let him go completely. They've insisted on being his guardians and that he retain his name. He says Trowa will also be watched over." A soft smile grew on his face. "Those two really belong together, ya know? They were kinda like Heero and me, love at first sight." His expression turned wistful for a scant moment before it changed once again, his memories coming fast.

"Because of Zechs's role in the first war, he's also being pressured to accept the Integration. But he's tight lipped as always with us. I don't know what his plan for the future is going to be, and frankly, after all the trouble he gave us during the war, I don't give a damn."

"What happened after all of you made the decision to be Integrated?" Duane asked, keeping his eye on the time.

"We've been given two weeks to get our affairs in order. I'm spending my time with Heero and typing my story on his laptop of being a street kid from the slums of L-2. I'm writing about the gangs, of Solo, hunger, the numbing cold, as well as the plague and the deaths it caused. I can't leave out my stay at the orphanage with Father Maxwell and Sister Helen, even if I have to write the bad parts. I feel the need to tell others about their goodness and kindness as well as my grief, hate and frustration at their senseless deaths at the hands of the Alliance and the L-2 rebels." He paused and chuckled. "I can't leave out telling them about Howard, that crazy son of a bitch who can fix up any machine in the universe. Damn I love that guy. He's been like a father to me at times." Duo's face then saddened. "I'm going to miss him." His whisper was filled with the sound of regret. "Like I miss Professor G and Deathscythe." He paused again, then added, "I'm telling everyone my reasons for fighting in the war and how I came to love a fellow soldier." He sighed wearily. "It's taken me four days, but I'm done with my history and I've mailed the whole thing, kit and caboodle, to Howard with his promise that after a couple of years, he'll get it published so that no one will ever forget the victims of the war, my dead. I called him to tell him what I was sending him and what was going to be happening. It hurts to know that I have to say goodbye to him. Howard tells me he'll be all right and that he'll always miss me, that I'll always be his little schmuck." A faint smile comes to the battered face, belying the slight quiver of his chin, showing just how much that memory hurt. "It's good to get that behind me," he takes in a shuddering breath. "I hate saying goodbye. I need to get some other things done before the Integration begins, just in case. I'll stash some money and fake IDs in a safe-deposit box. That's the street brat in me, always stashing something in a hole as back up. Once that's done, I'll spend all my remaining time with Heero."

Several minutes pass before a slow, sensuous smile graced the young man's face, and Duane was almost afraid to hear what Duo was going to say as he continued. "Heero and I spent the rest of our time together in bed." He said dreamily, then the frown returned. "I'm not a trusting person, and it scares me shitless that with the removal of our memories we won't have the common connection the war, horrible as it was, gave to us. Our love making during these last days feels desperate, and I think he's afraid too. But far be it for Heero to ever voice any fears." He snorted with humor after saying that, and there was a great deal of affection in his voice as he said in a passion-filled voice, "By the colonies, I love him."

Duane sat forward in his chair, mindful of the diminishing time. It was five thirty. "What happened Duo? What happened to Chad and how did you become Jason?"

An anxious look swept across the battered face in response to the question. "I don't know," he answered, suddenly becoming visibly upset.

"All right," Duane began again. He figured he'd jumped too far ahead and decided he needed to ask a more simpler question. "Go back to the Integration procedure. Do you remember it?"

"I think so." The look of worry was still on his face.

Duane wondered at the vague answer as Duo had been so forthright before. Maybe he was becoming too taxed and it was time to end the session despite Duo's initial decision to retrieve all his memories in one day. "Do you remember discussing with the doctors about any type of mental block or trigger that might be set in order to keep you from remembering or harming your self or others?" It was a shot in the dark, but he thought it might be best to inquire before delving further.

"The governments that wanted to bring us down thought the six of us were too violent to just be let loose on society. So mental blocks are going to be placed along with subliminal triggers set to stop us from hurting anyone. They chose physical pain for me as a reaction to violent thoughts as a way to control them. I've never dealt very well with pain," Duo confessed quietly with a dismissive shrug of his shoulder.

"At the end of the procedure did you become Chad Westbrook?"

Duo nodded, his face relaxing as his mind shot forward to those memories.

"I want you to remember Chad, remember being him. Forget for the moment of being Duo or Jason. Tell me about Chad Westbrook," Duane said, hoping that suggestion would help release the suppressed memories.

After a short pause, Duo began to speak again, his voice strangely perky. "Chad goes to the University of Sanq where he's majoring in Journalism. He lives off campus with his godmother/guardian, Lady Une and is known on campus as having an impressive, expensive wardrobe and a charm and wit that seems to attract people of both sexes. Frankly, he thinks they him for his money, so he's a bit wary of them."

Duane found it fascinating that Duo now referred to his other selves as separate entities. They had all been him, but now, having regained his memories as Duo, he'd separated himself from the two former personalities, even under hypnosis. Duane wondered if he'd more or less been an mental bystander, though not an actual participant in their lives, watching their lives subconsciously. But that thought didn't sit right with the hypnotist. Duo Maxwell seemed to be a person with a strong sense of self. He couldn't see him putting up with Scott Mercer's abuse if there was a tiny shred of the former gundam pilot in him. "What happened between Chad and Kai Ozuka?"

Duo's hands curled into fists, his face looked angry. "Chad met Kai on campus. He had this girl..." he paused as if recalling something, then his breath caught as if he just realized something. "It was Relena and she was all over him. Chad was immediately attracted to Kai, but it was obvious he was straight. The funny thing is," he looked momentarily puzzled, even with his eyes closed, "that Chad saw Kai checking him out. For a straight guy, he sure looked interested."

"Were you happy as Chad?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Chad was easy going and liked to have fun. He had a lot of friends."

"So what happened to Chad that his Integration was breached?"

Duo's whole face formed a frown again as he concentrated, then said, "Chad went to a party. Some frat thing where there was a lot of alcohol and drugs. He doesn't usually indulge in either as he's reacted badly to both and even wears a medical ID wrist band stating that fact. The lights in the house were dim and the music was loud, and this guy he'd met in passing, a member of the fraternity throwing the party, brought him a drink and started a conversation. You know, just friendly talk. He realized later that there was something in the drink. Don't know what it was, but it was strong, some kind of mind-altering drug. Chad went on some wild trip with strange, dark dreams filled and the faces of people he didn't know, both dead and alive. They called out for him... wanting him to do something." Duo's words were now coming out faint and choked, his face screwed up with tension and sweat began to glisten on his forehead and upper lip. Duane studied the hypnotized man's face, thinking that Chad's hallucinogenic visions must have been very dark in order to cause the reaction he was observing. He moved closer to the couch and sat on the floor next Duo to hear the almost whispered dialogue as he continued. "When Chad woke up two days later, he was dazed and confused, lying naked in some stranger's bed with a sore ass and three used condoms knotted and tossed onto the floor. It appeared that someone had been fun at his expense while he'd been out of it. He quickly discovered he was in the attic room of the frat house where the party had been held. Being too embarrassed by the situation to say anything to anyone, he decided not to go to the authorities, but vowed to himself to find the jack ass that drugged him and beat the shit out of him. He dressed in his clothes that he found in a pile on the floor next to the bed and slunk home to deal with his angry and worried guardian. Later that week, he went to the university's health office to be tested for STDs. Luck was with him; nothing showed up on the test results. What did show up as a result of that horrible drug-induced night were troubling and recurring nightmares that haunted him. Chad thought the drug must have somehow damaged his mind as he recalled poverty, starving in the street of some unknown place, and then of being the pilot of a gundam in the wars.

"It was about a week later when he saw Kai in class, and it was as if a light had suddenly been turned on in his mind. He instantly knew without a doubt that Kai was Heero Yuy, and that he'd been a pilot in the war and his lover. With that memory came the realization of being Duo and the wrongs that had been done to the both of them. We were more than a little pissed."

"So what did Chad do then?"

"We waited. Things were still sketchy as the memories came trickling back. We were confused about what was going on and wanted to allow more of the strange, past memories of Duo to come to the surface. With each passing day, Chad's reality blurred as locked-away memories of being Duo re-surfaced more and more. And with the memories of their true past came the longing for Heero. Seeing him on campus with Relena made us want to do something drastic. But we held back until the right opportunity presented itself."

Duane's eyebrow rose. Interesting. Now it was 'we' Duo was referring to when Chad and himself became aware of each other and began to act as one.

"The memory of just before the Integration came back to us along with the name of the lawyer who'd prepared the consent papers. Using a false name and pretense for going, we made an appointment with him. He didn't recognize us at first, they'd cut our hair, and we engaged him as our lawyer to make sure the confidentiality clause was in force before we spoke to him of our dilemma.

"He was shocked at first, learning who we were, that Duo's memories were returning. But when I told him of the breach of promise, he pulled our files out and confirmed that someone had made a grievous error. He had a list of the doctors that had worked on the six of us during the four months it took to Integrate us back into society. Looking them over, I recognized the name of the shrink who worked with me and Heero and made a mental note of it. Mr. Harridan, our lawyer, said he would look into the matter and determine what legal recourse was open to us. He promised to contact us if we left him a number where we could be reached."

"What happened then?"

"We gave him Chad's cell phone number and left. We then went to the nearest phone booth and looked up the shrinks name, the one that had worked on us during our Integration. Finding his address in yellow pages, we paid a surprise visit to the good shrink just after regular work hours, of course." A smile filled with wry amusement grew on Duo's face. "Scared the shit out of the old geezer. With a small tape recorder in our pocket, the about-to-piss-his-pants bastard confessed, well, after a little strong arming, that Relena had paid him a slight fortune to adjust the future that had been promised to Heero and us. Heero's new persona, Kai, was told he was straight with a strong attraction to Relena. She didn't have anything done to Chad's future, other than to remove Heero, or Kai, from his life and memory."

From the lines on his young, battered face, Duane could almost see a building anger roiling beneath the young man's skin. "After the old man's confession, we showed the good doctor that we'd taped his comments and promised to sue him for malpractice, breech of contract and malicious mischief if he didn't help us in giving Heero back his memories."

"He agreed, didn't he?"

"Yeah," Duo chuckled quietly. "He caved in pretty damn quickly in lieu of losing his livelihood and reputation if we filed those charges against him. He said he'd help but that we had to bring Heero to him the following night, after his office staff had gone home. That posed a bit of a problem," Duo continued, his voice coming out slower as if he were getting weary. "Kai and Chad had only exchanged greetings in passing and stares of mutual admiration. They hadn't had a true conversation. We decided there were two choices available to us in getting him to that office. We had to either surprise him and knock him out after his last class, or trick him into going to the office. We used what we'd observed of Heero against him, his attraction to us. If Relena had tried to dupe him through Integration, implanting the idea that he wasn't gay, it didn't seem to take completely because Kai was obviously attracted to us.

"We watched him leave his last class for the day, followed him to his car and causally called out to him, taking time to talk and flirt with him. He finally asked if we needed a ride somewhere. We took him out to dinner in order to get to know him and pass the time until the shrink's office closed. It was six thirty and dark when we drove up to the doctor's office and we asked him to come in with us and he agreed. Once inside the building, he became pensive and suspicious, especially when we entered the empty psychiatrist's office. Before he knew what was happening, the wacked doctor put him under with just a few brief words. It seems once you've been under hypnosis, especially as often as we had during the Integration process, you're more susceptible to going under quickly. The doctor managed to return some of Heero's previous memories to him in less than two hours, and then the crooked geezer was more than happy to see us out his door.

"We spent the evening in his car, holding each other tightly while we discussed the steps we could take to rectify the situation. We went back to Une's place, remembering Chad had a check -in hour, especially after he'd gone missing for two days a couple of weeks before. If he didn't show up on time, the cops would be called. We decided to follow through on the lawyer, seeing that we'd been purposely separated and that the contract we'd signed had the law on our side. We could only hope the courts would do something to rectify it. We weren't against the procedure of Integration as much as we were upset that Relena and the doctor had screwed with our future together."

At that point in the story, Duo paused and his face went slack with an expression of sadness as he continued. "Une met us at the door and confronted me about Kai's presence. She looked at our faces and knew that some, if not all, of our past selves had returned. We told her what happened, mostly because of the good relationship she had with us as Chad. We trusted her to help us make things right again and asked her to please wait until we heard from the lawyer before she notified anyone that we'd regained part of our memories. She agreed," he said, and then the tone of his voice turned angry. "And lied through her damn teeth. Before an hour had passed a SWAT team surrounded the house and we were forced to give up. We were separated at once and the Integration process began almost immediately. But this time we weren't so cooperative. We fought them physically and mentally." Duo's face darkened as he came to a new realization. "That's when we became Jason Phillips and he was sent the to the States to live, as far away from Heero as possible."

"And Scott? How did he come into the picture?"

There was a moment's pause and Duo's expression looked perplexed, and his mind seemed to be changing gears before he answered, "I'm not sure. I... I know now he was sent by Preventers to keep an eye on me."

The alarm on his watch had gone off during the last of Duo's story, it was time to end this session. He spent the next few minutes reinforcing Duo's beliefs of who he was, that he absolutely had no heart condition and that he was strong, healthy and could fight to defend himself or others without any pain from his chest or heart. He also told him that he had very few inhibitions, unlike Jason, that he was a forceful personality and a person who did things well and finished the job. With those thoughts implanted deeply into Duo's mind, Duane could only hope that they would override the suggestions planted years ago of a debilitating heart condition and the personality of a timid, fearful individual.

He took Duo into a relaxed state with a few words, told him he would remember everything he'd recalled while under hypnosis then brought him back to consciousness. He mentally crossed his fingers that he didn't mess the younger man up any more than he already was.

When Duo opened his eyes, there was a look in them so foreign to Jason that Duane knew without a doubt he was once again looking at a fully-returned Duo Maxwell, gundam pilot.

"They did it again," Duo hissed angrily, a spark of something in his damaged eyes that Duane hadn't seen before, a promise of retribution. "But this time, they've gone too far."

"What are you going to do?" the hypnotist asked, eying the other man as he struggled to sit up, wincing with pain. Without thought, he reached out to take Duo's good arm to assist him but Duo immediately pulled back, his eyes shooting a warning. A shiver went down the hypnotist's spine as those eyes bore into him. There was danger in that warning glance. His discomfort must have shown on his face because Duo paused, took in a deep breath and lowered his eyes. "Sorry," he said in a softer tone of voice. "My past and training are kicking in. I don't let many people touch me."

Duane nodded. The difference between Jason and Duo with his complete memories was immediately discernable. They were almost like day and night. Watching the injured young man coming slowly and somewhat painfully to stand on unsteady legs, Duane resisted the urge to steady him as the other's body swayed slightly. "I've grown weak," Duo muttered as he assessed his condition. "I'll need to build up my muscle tone again as well as refresh my skills."

"Duo?"

Blue-violet eyes, now seeming older and somehow jaded, rose to meet the other man's questioning gaze. Duane cleared his throat nervously under the other's penetrating gaze and asked, "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to find the others and make sure they haven't been screwed over like I was. Then I'll take my revenge on those who thought they could fuck with the life of Duo Maxwell."

A foreboding chill made Duane put his arms around himself even as he saw strength, power and determination radiate from the battered person in front of him. Jason Phillips, the frightened, timid and frail young man was completely gone, replaced by a true warrior. He felt sweat and goose bumps both breaking out on his skin as the reality of the situation struck him, that he was responsible for the re-emergence of one of the deadliest people from the past wars, and Duo Maxwell was back with a vengeance. "Oh God!" He moaned an sent up a silent prayer for divine intervention and forgiveness. He abruptly moved away from his position next to the sofa and flopped down into the adjacent chair, burying his face in his hands. Knowing what he did now, he realized that he was in more trouble than he'd ever imagined he could be.

"Duane?" Duo's voice was soft with concern as he spoke, reminding Duane of Jason. "Are you all right?"

The nearly thirty year old man shook his head, indicating that no, he was anything but alright, and he had an idea his life would never be the same again. He momentarily wondered at the instant change in the other man. He'd gone from being determined and angry to suddenly concerned and caring. He guessed that maybe Duo Maxwell had some multiple personality shifting going on along with the memories of the three people he'd been in the last couple of years. What a mess it must be in that young man's mind, he thought. But then again, what the hell did he know? He was a hypnotist, not a psychiatrist.

Duo's voice broke him out of his thoughts. "Listen, man, I'm really grateful for what you've done for me and realize that you've put yourself at risk.," Duo said, his voice close by. "But believe me when I tell ya, that I'm a good friend to have. I won't let anything happen to you because of this."

Duane looked up to the transformed young man. "Your revenge will no doubt be traced back to me," he said, filled with trepidation. "And I'll pay for what I've done and for whatever it is you're going to do."

The room fell silent as Duo appeared to process that thought for a moment. He then turned to look at the clock on the mantle. "We don't have time for this right now. I have to get back to the apartment. Can we talk about this on the way?"

Duane stood, looking confused. "You're actually going back there now that you've got your memories?" he asked, perplexed by the decision. "Why?"

"I still have some questions that need answering. I want to know who the hell Scott Mercer really is and to get my money back. He's taken my paycheck for several years and I'm going to need whatever he's stashed away in order to get out of here."

"But you're no longer Jason," Duane protested. "He'll see that you're not, just as I can. He'll know, and then what will happen?"

Duo shook his head. "I've worn many masks in my lifetime, presented the persona that needed to get the job done. I can be Jason again in order to get what I need. Fortunately, Scott always backs off after a violent attack to let Jason heal, so in a way the timing is fortuitous." Duo shrugged, winced at the unthinking movement, then smiled without amusement. "But if he touches me in any way, I'll kill him."

By the tone of his voice Duane had no doubt that Duo would do as he said. He went to the coat rack and retrieved their coats. He placed Duo's across the back of his shoulders, then put on his own, finding his car keys in the pocket. "Let's go," he said, and led Duo from his apartment and to his car.

The ride to Jason and Scott's shared apartment didn't take as long as they'd anticipated. Evidently, like Duane, many of the city's employed citizens had left their offices for home earlier than usual to begin their holiday weekend.

While in transit, Duane listened to his companion state his plans for the days ahead. Duo would resume the role of Jason and attempt to find out who Scott Mercer was and to gain access to any available funds. He would then begin preparations for leaving the abusive man and hiding from the authorities. As a back-up plan, Duo memorized Duane's phone number in case he got into trouble and had to run before he was prepared. The black-haired man urged him to come to him if Scott became violent once again.

As the car pulled up to the curb of the apartment building Duo designated as his, Duane turned to him. "Are you sure you're going to be alright?" he asked with honest concern.

Despite his newly-returned memories, coupled with his inner strength and determination, there was an air of hesitation surrounding the smaller man. "Just thinking about Scott and all the pain he's put me through makes me so angry I could pummel in his face. But I have to do this the smart way and make a clean break from here so I don't have someone dogging my heels." Duo's voice had a distant quality to it as it faded, and Duane saw a shudder shake the smaller-framed body, letting him know going back into his apartment as Jason was not something Duo wanted to do.

"You don't have to do this, you know," he told the younger man. "I can take you back to my apartment and bankroll you until you get on your feet again. You can go anywhere you want to."

Blue eyes tinged with a hint of violet filled with gratitude as they turned to him. "Thanks, Duane. You can't know how much your offer to help means to me. I might even take you up on it if I get into a real bind." His face then tightened as his resolve returned. "But I have to do this. The time to run and hide hasn't come yet. I need to face this demon down and exact justice. I only have to stay long enough to confirm my suspicions. If I can find proof, I'll give it to the news agencies and crucify little Miss Pacifist's ass publicly. She's going to learn that payback is definitely a bitch."

"Relena Peacecraft?" Duane asked. And then a piece of information came back to him regarding Ms. Peacecraft and the name of Kai Ozuka's. He swallowed nervously as Duo answered his question.

The former gundam pilot nodded. "I had the first shrink's confession before they re-Integrated me again, without my consent, and put me into my own personal hell with that piece of shitwork upstairs. I'll bet she's behind this just as much as she was behind the Chad/Kai fiasco."

"You won't physically harm her, will you?" the hypnotist asked, looking worried.

"No," he was quick to reply. "Listen, I might have been a gundam pilot, but I made every effort not to kill if I didn't have to. Those who did feel the wrath of my gundam were usually trying to take me down."

Duane looked at the car clock, it was six thirty-five. "You better go." He pointed to the dashboard clock. "Call me if you need any help, or a place to go."

Duo gave him a tired, grateful smile. "Thanks, Duane. I promise not to mess your life up too much." And then he added with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, "If I can help it."

"Merry Christmas," the older man called out as Duo carefully eased himself off of his seat and out of the car, his movements awkward because of his use of only one arm and his stiff and aching ribs and legs.

Duo turned and stiffly bent from his waist until their eyes met to return the wish. "You too, man." He then gave Duane a forced smile and closed the car door and turned to enter the apartment building.

Concern and worry for the injured young man was forefront in Duane's mind as he watched the slight figure slowly hobble away and disappear into the building. He sat there letting his car run idle for a few moments while the temperature outside continued to dip towards further below freezing on this day before Christmas Eve in order to come to terms once more with the fact that he'd inadvertently discovered one of the gundam pilots. He still couldn't believe that he'd willingly helped free him from the Integration and blocks in his mind, both of which had made the once fierce and proud gundam pilot into a helpless victim. He tried to justify his actions with Duo's plight, finding that he didn't feel as guilty as he probably should about freeing Duo Maxwell from Jason Phillip's horrific life. With the information he and Duo had uncovered during the long afternoon session, he felt his own anger growing withing him at the injustice perpetrated on the young man at the whim of a girl who had a crush on his lover. No, he wouldn't waste one minute of his time regretting his decision, even if he were discovered and punished for breaking the law. He snorted and shook his head, thinking that he never did do things halfway. He felt the risks he'd taken would be worth it. He believed that the many wrongs done to Jason and now Duo were soon going to be addressed in one way or another, and that was enough of a reward to him for having taken the dangerous path he'd trod in awakening the gundam pilot. He dreaded the moment that Duo learned what had happened to Kai/Heero. He didn't want to be anywhere in the other's vicinity when he found out that information and a truck load of manure would hit the proverbial fan.

Putting his car into drive, he let off the parking brake, then pulled away from the curbside, heading for his home to prepare for an evening spent with his family as they celebrated the beginning of the Christmas holiday together. He wished there was something he could do to make Duo's Christmas better than what he was probably going to endure in that apartment with his abuser over the weekend. But he knew all his wishing wouldn't change anything. He'd done what he could for the time being, and now it was up to Duo to get himself out of the fix he'd awakened into. Turning on the radio to listen to some Christmas music, he worked very hard to put the injured young man and his past out of his mind, at least for the rest of the evening.

More to come

A.N. Hope the I, you, he, we and us terms wasn't too confusing. This was a tricky chapter to write.


	9. Wring Out The Old

Disclaimer and warnings on first page of story.

Integration

By: Bane's Desire

Part 8 - Wring Out The Old

Walking into the apartment with five minutes to spare, Duo cast a weary and wary glance at Scott who met him at the door looking perturbed.

"Cutting it a little close, aren't you?" the Asian asked snidely.

"Sorry," Duo took off his tinted glasses and lowered his head. "They had a little impromptu party and it was hard to get away."

"I've got dinner waiting," Scott announced as he moved to take Jason's coat from off his shoulders. He hung it up on the standing coat rack next to the door then turned and looked expectantly at the younger man. "Haven't you got something to say to me?" he asked, a dark eyebrow raised in anticipation.

Duo looked up, surprised at the question, then shifted his eyes back down to the floor again and noticed a dark stain on the carpet, probably his own blood. He refocused and searched through Jason's memories for a hint of whatever it was his abuser was looking for. "Um.. thanks for making dinner?" he guessed. Then, too late, Jason memories came up with the significance of the day's date.

"How about happy birthday?" Scott frowned and peered a bit closer at him. "Are you all right?"

Duo mentally snorted at the comment. Of course he wasn't all right. What a stupid, asinine question, he thought. He was in the early stages of recovering from the savage beating he'd gotten the night before and his headache was threatening to split his skull in half after the long session with Duane. He knew better than to say that out loud, so instead of telling the truth, he simply answered, "Sorry. Guess I'm just worn out from... yesterday and the strain of avoiding everyone I could today. Sorry, I don't have a present."

"I didn't expect one. I never get you anything," Scott said, still eyeing the injured man. "I thought we'd have dinner then relax in front of the fireplace. Fool around a bit, sort of a birthday celebration."

The part of him that had been Jason flinched, and Duo knew exactly what Scott meant and there was no way he'd let the other man "fool around" with him. Remembering to keep up the facade of Jason, he answered as timidly as possible. "I... I'm sorry, Scott, but I just in too much pain. I think I'll try to eat something and then take a pain and sleeping pill, if that's all right with you. Maybe I'll feel better in a day or two."

It was clear by the irritated huff that came from the other man that Scott wasn't happy about his reply. 'Screw you,' Duo thought to himself, adding several other derogatory expletives in his mind about his so-called lover.

"All right. Go into the kitchen and I'll just put this stuff away," the Asian man replied unhappily. Duo shuddered as he watched as the other man went to the couch and picked up the handcuffs, a blindfold and lube that had been placed there earlier. He tracked Scott as he left the room before his eyes narrowed with hatred aimed at the man as he watched him go. How the other man could have ever thought he could put handcuffs on him with a broken arm that was swollen and hurting like nobody's business was beyond his understanding. "Sick bastard," he muttered under his breath, then made his way to the kitchen.

The table was set and the prepared meal was sitting on the table ready to be consumed. It was probably all right for Scott's birthday, but as he looked around the apartment and took in the lack of holiday decorations that generally signified that the biggest holiday of the year was only two days away, he felt even more empty than before. 'What a pathetic Christmas,' Duo thought, sitting down in the chair Jason always occupied. He recalled from Jason's memories that Scott never did celebrate holidays. Early in their relationship, Scott had stated that he'd been estranged from his dysfunctional family and set out on his own when he turned sixteen. He'd been angry and bitter and consigned all of his relatives to the past as well as any traditions they celebrated. There was no traditional celebrating of birthdays or holidays in Scott's world. Instead of cake and presents, a dinner and kinky sex was the usual birthday tradition for Scott, and New Year's Eve was pretty much celebrated the same way, only alcohol was usually involved.

A deep feeling of sadness rose up within him as he realized he'd never celebrated Christmas with Heero like he'd always wanted, with a tree, lights and presents shared together with their friends. That dream had been obliterated when they were Integrated.

His broken arm and ribs throbbed and ached and his head hurt as a result of the long afternoon session spent under hypnosis. Damn, but he was tired. He set his elbows on the table and rested his forehead against his uninjured upraised hand, wishing he could just fade away.

His dulled senses registered Scott's entrance into the kitchen and that the other man had come to stand at his side. Two pills, a white and a blue one, were set on the edge of his empty plate. He had to wonder if they were the medication he thought they were or maybe some placebo.

"Take those now and they'll be well into your system by the time you've finished eating," Scott advised.

Duo reached for the two pills. The white one was supposed to be for pain and the blue was the sleeping pill he took on occasion. He set the pain pill in his mouth and palmed the other, deciding on a better use for it. He chased the pill down with the glass of milk that was sitting next to his plate.

Scott then took his dinner plate and filled it with lasagna, green beans and salad, then put it back in place before he picked up his own plate and filled it. "Eat something," his abuser ordered. Deciding it was better to eat than carry on a conversation, Duo took small portions of food on his fork, just as his memory of Jason indicated he should. Scott sat across from him in his usual chair and Duo could feel the other man's eyes on him as he studied his food.

"I told you to stay home today and now you're paying for your stubbornness," the other man commented smugly.

Duo ignored the comment and thought darkly about how the bastard always managed to blame him for his poor health or beaten condition. Hatred rose inside of him for the man sitting across the table, casually eating his dinner. He thought of all the abuse Jason and now he had suffered at his hands, and envisioned using some of the warped torture techniques Professor G had taught him before he was sent off to war. With a silent gasp, a sudden realization struck him like a bolt of lightening, sharp and brilliant. He kept his face down as a dark grin of satisfaction formed on his lips. There had been no pain from the violent thoughts that had just passed through his mind. Duane had successfully managed to rid him of the inhibiting chest pain his past violent thoughts always brought on. He felt a rush of excitement knowing that with the removal of those inhibitors, he was well on his way to being free, that everything was going to work out. Relaxing his facial muscles, taking on a slack expression in order to hide his awakened self from Scott, he prepared himself to continue biding his time and wait to extract his revenge.

The meal was finished in silence and Duo watched from out of the corner of his eye as Scott rose from his chair and started the coffee machine for his nightly cup. The tea kettle was turned on for his cup of herbal tea. He'd always hated tea and he couldn't help but wonder if he'd been programed for Jason to prefer it to coffee, taking away one of his other former pleasures. Why? He didn't know.

Scott put their respective mugs on the table and Duo's nose wrinkled at the distasteful thought of the green tea he knew he'd be drinking. It was supposed to be good for him, he knew, but it tasted like boiled twigs and dirt. He rested his chin in his hands as Scott finished clearing away the table and began to run water in the sink to rinse the dishes and wash the pots and pans. Making sure the Japanese man had his back turned, Duo took his spoon and leaned his body slightly over the table's edge to hide his actions. He then put the saved sleeping pill on the tabletop and pressed the back of his spoon against the top of it, crushing it into powder. He silently ground it down, making sure there were no lumps left. Quickly checking again, making sure Scott was preoccupied and looking the other way, he placed his splintered arm over the powder and waited.

When the dishes were loaded into the dishwasher and the pots and pans were washed and put away, the coffee and hot water were ready. Scott brought the kettle over and after putting the tea bag in Jason's mug and pouring the hot water over it, he grabbed his own cup and moved to fill it.

Duo let the tea steep only a short while before he pulled the tea bag out and set it on the edge of the saucer, then doctored the hot water with as much sugar as he could while Scott's back was turned. He recalled sourly that Jason wasn't allowed much sugar to sweeten the awful brew. Scott returned to the table and added cream and sugar to his coffee, stirred it and then sipped it appreciatively.

"Do we have any crackers or cookies?" Duo dared to ask.

Scott stood. "I bought some especially for tonight, being my birthday and all." He went to the pantry to retrieve the treat.

While his back was turned, Duo scraped the powder substance off the table with his finger and into the palm of his other hand, then put it in Scott's coffee. Sticking his finger into it, he quickly stirred the hot liquid. He pulled his hand back quickly when he saw the other man turning around, a tin of butter cookies in his hands.

Popping open the lid, Scott put the container down on the table. "An early Merry Christmas," he said, his tone anything but cheery.

Duo reached over and took one, figuring this was probably the extent of his Christmas celebration. The part of his memories that belonged to Jason were pretty much bereft of any memories of happy times or traditional celebrations. In that respect, he and Jason were similar. He'd missed all those things as a homeless street kid, and had always longed to have those traditional celebrations as a part of his life if he survived the war. Now knowing that those things had been taken away from him along with everything else, served to fuel his anger even more. Whoever put him here with Scott the sadist was going to pay and pay dearly.

There was a small spark of satisfaction deep inside him as he watched the Japanese man drink the remainder of his coffee. Once Scott was sound asleep, he'd do some snooping, assured that the other man would be out cold for at least six hours.

Excusing himself several moments later, Duo made his way to the bathroom to prepare for bed. He struggled one-handed to get the sweater off that he'd worn all day. It was difficult, but he'd be damned if he'd ask the bastard who'd done this to him for any help. His loose dress pants were more easily removed, but his hand stilled as he came to his zipper, knowing he wasn't wearing boxers. Scott insisted they both sleep naked. A shudder of revulsion shook his slender frame as Jason's memory of what he'd endured in the bed he was about to climb into. Rape, degradation, and humiliation had dominated his nights and the bedroom's activities. Feeling his stomach reacting to those strong, adverse memories, Duo leaned over the toilet and vomited out the contents of his stomach, causing his injured ribs and aching head to hurt abominably. "Oh, God," he moaned, clutching his good hand to his head. He quickly flushed the toilet, brushed his teeth, rinsed out his mouth, then left the bathroom to seek out his bed. He then removed this pants and climbing under the covers, between the top sheet and comforter, hopefully giving him some barrier between himself and the other man, he huddled on the edge of Jason's side of the bed and waited.

He didn't have to wait long as Scott entered the bedroom shortly after the bedding began to warm. The man yawned loudly and after undressing, he climbed into the bed and between the sheets properly and thankfully stayed on his side of it. Not ten minutes later, his soft snores punctuated the otherwise silent room.

This was the moment he'd been waiting for. Pushing any traces of weariness aside and after making sure Scott was sleeping deeply, Duo slowly eased himself out of bed and left the bedroom, silently closing the door after him. Snagging a blanket off the back of the couch, he managed to get it over his goose bump-covered shoulders to ward off the cold and headed towards the room that had always been forbidden to him - Scott's locked office.

With his hand on the cold doorknob, Duo paused as Jason's fear rose within him. He'd been conditioned to never go into this room. It was Scott's and he knew the penalty would be severe if any evidence was found that he'd been in there. Duo pushed back Jason's fear, telling himself he'd been a gundam pilot, a master at infiltration. He had nothing to fear from Jason's abuser. He might be in less than peak condition but he could still kill the other man if he was attacked.

Reaching up and feeling the top edge of the door frame with his fingertips he found the narrow pin that would unlock the office door. He put the slender tool into the small hole in the doorknob, wiggled it around until he found the flat catch and pushed in on it. Turning the doorknob with growing confidence, Duo put the door-opening tool back in its place, entered the office and found the light switch on the wall. He flicked it on and the room was immediately lit. To all appearances the eight by twelve foot room looked just what he imagined a rarely used office should; it was sparse. There was a modest-size oak desk against the far wall with a folding chair pushed up against it and a computer sitting on top of it, an item Scott refused to let him have access to. At long last, with his returned memories, he finally understood why. To the right of the desk was the brightly-lit standing lamp, the only means of illumination in the room. A quick scan showed there were no pictures on the walls, no bookcase or stereo. The only piece of furniture other than the desk was the three -foot tall metal cabinet that sat alone against the left wall.

Shutting the door soundlessly behind him, Duo locked it and went for the computer. As it booted up, he turned to the file cabinet and tried opening it. It was locked. At the moment he'd give anything for his lock picks.

Going back to the desk, he opened the drawers, of which there were six, three on both sides, and began searching the surface area of each one. A triumphant smile crossed his face as he felt an out-of-place object. Pulling the taped key from off the bottom of the drawer, he brought it up and examined it. "What a simpleton," he said, chuckling darkly at Scott's idea of hiding his key. He rose from the chair and went back to the metal cabinet and inserted the key into the lock, located at the top right corner. A satisfying click announced the unlocking of all four drawers.

Opening the top drawer, Duo found a neatly organized system of filing. The front folders were labeled in alphabetical order the names of utility vendors, rent and car payments as well as medical insurance bills. Towards the back of the cabinet he discovered two blue folders which he pulled out to get a better look at them. Taking them over to the desk, he set them down. The label on each folder was vaguely familiar to him. If he remembered right, the white symbol of a dove on the dark blue cover was the insignia of the Preventers, the so-called world peacekeeping organization. Opening the folder, he wasn't too surprise to see a dossier on himself. He scanned his background information dating from the end of the war, his signed contract agreeing to the terms of the first Integration, as well as reports documenting his first successful attempt at freeing himself and Heero from their wrongful identities. Another report cited their capture and incarceration and the order for the Integration that had been forced upon him. He was somewhat surprised to see a complaint filed by the lawyer he'd visited as well as letters from Lady Une and Relena stating the necessity of immediately re-Integrating both himself and Heero.

He held his breath and his eyes widened with disbelief as he read the request from the Vice Foreign Minister on the official letterhead from her office that Heero be returned to his original memories as Kai Ozuka. As for pilot 02, he was to be given a new identity, a more passive personality and placed in the United States with a hired guardian to ensure by any means that he didn't regain his memories.

Anger, resentment and the deep sense of betrayal for what he'd suffered at that girl's hands brought unwanted moisture to his eyes. He turned on the computer, called up a search engine and typed in Kai Ozuka. Ten pages of sites with information about his former lover came up. With some trepidation, he clicked on the first link. His heart felt like lead as he saw a large head shot of the one person in the world that had earned his respect and love. His hand rose to trace the handsome face with the deep blue eyes on the screen.

With a shuddering sigh, he scanned down each picture revealing Kai Ozuka's life, first as a college student, then as a Preventer. There were photos of him appearing stone-faced and alert as he stood guard beside Relena as she lied through her teeth while making her speeches about peace, justice and pacifism. Even with his anger and frustration, Duo noted that in all of the pictures of he and Relena that Kai/Heero rarely smiled, and when he did it appeared strained. He was the picture of stoicism and duty, just like Heero had been during the war.

He scrolled down and suddenly stopped, struck to the heart by a series of wedding pictures. Relena was dressed in a long, white wedding gown and clung to the arm of her new husband. Heero, or rather Kai, was dressed in a light gray tuxedo, his face as pinched with serious intention as ever when there appeared to be a crowd crouching in too close for comfort. Even though Heero didn't look to be all that happy, Duo knew he'd never seen a more handsome man.

"Shit, Heero. Why?" he asked in an agonized whisper, the unshed tears in his eyes finally spilling over as his heart felt the pain of betrayal. His initial impulse was to turn off the computer, to hide from the evidence of Relena's scheming coming to a successful conclusion. But instead of running from it, he spent the next hour scanning several sites, gleaning as much information as he could, learning of Kai's made up but well documented and believable past and of the time that had passed since they'd been separated. The well-known couple had been married for eighteen months and Kai continued to serve as the head of Relena's official security team. He was somewhat surprised that Relena had kept her maiden name, but guessed she didn't want to give up the last name that was synonymous with pacifism. He continued to scan more of the pictures taken of the couple at many official and social gatherings, Relena always within arm's reach of her husband in almost every shot.

When he finally shut the site windows down an hour later, his hatred for Relena Peacecraft was complete. He decided that it didn't matter what had gone on during Heero's Integration. Relena had tricked him, and when Duane gave him back his memories, he'd leave her in a minute, then publically humiliate her when news got out that her devoted husband left her for someone else, someone she'd unjustly lied to and manipulated into a hellish life in order to get her own way.

With his revenge burning in every fiber of his being, he had to force himself to re-focus on his goals for the night by taking out the bank statements from the cabinet. A humorless grin came back to his face, now dry from tears. It was so nice of Scott to leave his ID and passwords to his bank account written on the inside of the folder. The man had been so sure of his domination of Jason, of his control over the person made weak at the whim of a spoiled girl, that he had been sloppy with his own security. He logged into Scott's account and found himself surprised once again. It seemed the undercover Preventer/caretaker received a hefty salary and a living allowance. Duo noted his bimonthly paycheck had also been deposited. With over one hundred thousand in savings and the ten thousand in checking, Duo knew he had enough to get him to his next destination and then some extra to play with. His eyes narrowed as plans began to form in his mind. He'd get away, of that he was sure, but not until he took care of the freak sleeping in the other room.

Looking at the small clock on the computer, he noted it was well after midnight. Options flashed through his mind, and after quickly analyzing them the most sensible one came to him. He put the fingers of his uninjured hand on the keyboard and began to manipulate the information on the screen. "And a fine Happy Birthday and Merry Christmas to you too, asshole" he said jeeringly.

By five o'clock that morning, Duo had all the information he needed. Bank account numbers and pass words were memorized and Scott's true identity had been found. He was Preventer Eric Yannoshi, who'd volunteered for his current lucrative assignment, guaranteeing the Integrated person known as Jason Phillips was in his personal custody and that he would be limited in his association with others in order to maintain the integrity of the Integrated programming. He was not to allow his charge to have any opportunity to gain his memories back. Travel was forbidden to the two of them to any city other than Chicago without advance notice to the Preventers' office, and the former gundam pilot's violent tendencies were to be subdued at all costs, an order that was to be carried out within the Integration.

After reading a good part of the file, Duo sat back in the chair and covered his tired and burning eyes with his undamaged hand. Those orders had hit him like a wrecking ball on his stomach and fueled his anger even more. And with that anger, he mentally drafted a plan to escape the hell the Preventer's and Relena had concocted for him. He just had to hold out until New Year's Eve. He needed time to set things up and then he would have the first part of his revenge, after which he planned on disappearing for a while, resurfacing only to continue his retaliation on those who'd brought him to this end; and then he'd disappear... with Heero.

Scott woke up grumpy on Christmas Eve morning from his drugged sleep, frequently complaining about how lousy he felt and that he might be coming down with something. Duo stayed as much to himself as possible, joining the other man in complaining about his own discomforts in an effort to remind Scott to keep his hands to himself. It was the beginning of the Christmas holiday, one that had been repeated over the last several he'd known as Jason. But his disappointment at not even having a tree or presents was somewhat placated as he told himself that next year would be different. He would be free of Scott, of the Preventers, and if things went as planned, he'd be buying presents for Heero.

Duo gave the appearance of going to work the day after Christmas, the holiday officially over, but as soon as he left the apartment he went to the nearest payphone and called in sick and then phoned Debra on her cell phone to tell her he had errands to run, not wanting her to worry about him. He told her he needed his small stash of money that she'd been saving for him and she volunteered to go to the bank during lunch and bring it back to the office. He agreed to meet her in the parking lot near the end of her lunch hour in order to get it from her and to fill her in on what was going on.

He hung up after speaking with her, thinking fondly about the young woman who had been the one bright spot in Jason's life, and he promised himself that he would do everything in his power to keep her uninvolved in his escape and free from any hint of involvement in his breaking free from the Integration. With the knowledge he'd gained of who he was and the people involved in screwing up his life, he knew the consequences would be severe for anyone who helped him. He was determined that neither she nor Duane would suffer from having been his friend.

He turned his attention towards his future escape. There was some business he needed to conduct in order to make sure his escape successful. He wished for a moment that Heero was beside him, using his superior skills at hacking into bank accounts, but he let the thought go as the recent memory of the pictures he'd seen of his lover marrying Relena flashed in his mind, bringing an overwhelming wave of pain and self pity that he knew would be detrimental to his thought process in the busy days ahead. He re-focused his mind, turning his thoughts to his first priority: freeing himself from Scott and from being under the thumb of Relena and the Preventers, specifically Agent Fire, who was Scott's superior and had given him the order to keep him in his current state no matter what the means. He was determined he'd have his revenge on all of them, and Duo Maxwell was one tenacious terrorist when it came to revenge.

After determining how much money Scott had the night before, Duo set to work in gaining access to Scott's funds. Being a bit rusty, the task had been a little more time consuming and difficult than he first thought it would be, but in the end his on-line trip to the bank proved successful, gaining him full access to all of Scott's accounts. Knowing the statement date for the month's activities was past and that the bug he'd put into Scott's private computer would deny the other man access to the Internet, he had no compunction or fear of being discovered. He knew how to get around the bug, and he'd go back to the bank's web site to make the large transfer as soon as he opened a new account in another bank, which topped his list of things to do that day. Once that was put in place, he'd wait until just before New Years Eve to transfer enough money from Scott's accounts to buy a new identity. With that much money in his hands, he planned on doing some shopping to buy clothing and accessories that would help to create the new person he'd become in order to keep himself hidden from the all seeing eyes of the Preventers.

He sat in a café near his work place and nursed a cup of coffee while he enjoyed a blueberry muffin with the five dollars Scott had given him for lunch, waiting for the time to pass before he was to meet Debra. At twelve forty-five, he walked into the parking lot and saw the familiar small woman standing alone on the sidewalk, grinning at him with a white paper bag in her hand.

Two hours later and after opening a new bank account with some of the money he'd gotten from Debra, he took a bus downtown and walked the busy streets of Chicago. His packages containing clothing purchased from a second-hand store dangled in his hand as he ignored his discomfort from his healing injuries while trying to appear to be nothing more than a causal shopper as he'd scouted around the city streets and businesses looking for someone who appeared similar in age and size to himself, preferably a male. After an hour of actively searching the busy bus terminal, he found such an individual and waited for the right moment to lift the guy's wallet, a task too easily accomplished despite his current physical limitations. He left the building and checked the wallet's contents after ducking into an alley, smiling at the sight of the young man's pilfered driver's license, social security card and student ID number, all of which would take him one step closer to freedom.

Next, he went to an even less reputable part of town, pulling from his past experiences and knowledge of who to make his subtle inquiries to. He was eventually led to a woman with a reputation for being one of the best forgers in the underground business, and who, for a sizeable fee, would give him the documentation he needed to become another person completely, whose background was legitimate enough to make him employable and allow him to travel.

At first he thought the bent and wrinkled Chinese woman was a bit long in the tooth for the kind of work she had a reputation for, but her manner was professional and her initial greeting was cautious. She questioned him, subtly at first, feeling out his reasons for the documents he was requesting, making sure he was legit and not an undercover cop. Deciding more or less by intuition that he was sincere, she then brought out a folder and showed him examples of her work and quoted him the sum of money that was required for her to provide him with a bogus birth certificate, a social security number and drivers license. And, for an extra two thousand credits, she would craft a travel visa that would allow him to go anywhere in the world as well as off planet. Duo tried to haggle the price with her, knowing it was expected, but in the long run he ended up paying her price. If her work was as good as the samples she'd shown him, any amount of money would be worth the freedom her forging would give him.

He left a cash down payment for the job with Mrs. Foo as well as the pilfered driver's license and student card from the kid in the bus terminal. At least the guy had a cool name, Skyler Watson, though it was a little too memorable. He figured he could live with it until it was time to take on another identity off planet. He told the woman that he would be altering his appearance to avoid any confrontation with the people chasing him, and even though he left out the fact that it was the authorities that would be looking for him, the woman gave him a knowing glance but asked no questions. Mrs. Foo agreed to start working on the documents immediately, and it came as no surprise that she requested a picture of him after he'd made his physical transformation and would need general information as to his height, weight and eye color to place his description as needed on the documentation. She assured him it would take three days after she received the picture to finish the documents and at the time of pick-up, full payment would be expected. He agreed readily, knowing it would take him a day or two after leaving Scott to change his physical appearance. He figured it would be two weeks until she finished with his papers. Two weeks to plan and make his escape. The idea that he would soon be free sent a pulse of adrenaline and excited anticipation through his body. He didn't know if he could wait that long to be away from Scott's abusive presence, but knew that he would stick it out; he really didn't have any other choice because timing was everything.

Thinking of time, he glanced to his watch he realized the day was slipping by quickly. He made his way back to the bus terminal, rented a locker and stashed his purchases inside, then slipped the key into his sock. He'd have to be careful that Scott didn't discover it. Then hailing a taxi, he went back to the apartment where the other man was no doubt waiting for him and decided to finish the rest of his preparations for the next day.

He returned to work on Wednesday, three days after Christmas, in order to keep up appearances. The slightly-faded bruises and splintered arm brought looks of pity and disgust from his co-workers, but it was only Debra's feelings that he was concerned about.

Anger shot from the brown eyes of the petite woman as she took in the latest damage to his small frame that had been hidden by his coat and sunglasses on Monday. "When?" she demanded, standing over his as he ate his lunch.

"The twenty-third," he answered, his green tinted glasses covering his eyes looked at her with a steady and sure gaze that Jason had.

The young black woman's breath hitched suddenly, noting the changes in him. She quickly sat herself down into the chair next to him and scooted it closer for a more private conversation. "Duane called me and said you remembered your entire past. What are you going to do?" she whispered.

"Escape," he replied, in an equally low voice. "But the less you know the better, Deb. Now that I know who I am and who's behind my shitty life, I realize how much trouble you could be in. I won't repay your friendship to Jason by letting any harm come to you."

His friend's face became clouded with concern. "I might have been Jason's friend," she said softly, her eyes focused on his displayed her sincerity as she said, "But I'm your friend, too."

A warm smile lit Duo's face. "You're the only good thing that's happened to me since I became Jason. Thanks, Deb. There should be more people like you in the world."

Her hand moved to cover his own, resting on the table top. The stark contrast in their skin tones was something neither of them ever considered in their friendship. "When are you leaving?"

"If all goes well, New Year's Eve. I've got somewhere to hide out all set up until things fall into place. We go out every New Year's to the party downtown. I'll just slip away into the crowd and disappear off the face of the Earth."

"You're going to just walk away?" She raised a dubious eyebrow.

"Well, not quite," he smirked. "I've been emptying out his bank accounts this week, and by the time I leave he'll be penniless, a failure at his job with his reputation and record ruined at the Preventers. I'd like to skin him alive but that would be too messy and send out a clear signal that I regained my memories. No doubt they'll wonder if I stole the money and disappeared, but it will just be speculation as there won't be a trace of where the money or I've gone. I've implanted some incriminating and illegal information on his computer, web sites depicting violent sex and child pron. I then wired some traceable, stolen funds to an off-shore bank in his real name. If I just disappear during the New Year's celebration, the authorities will have to wonder if some random violence happened to me in my helpless state and that Scott's money was stolen at random, or if Scott himself set up the other account in order to hide his on-the-side activities that his computer will hint at."

Debra looked into his eyes and was surprised to find the absence of fear she always saw in Jason's face and posture, it had been replaced with a look of determination that she'd always wished for her friend to possess. She'd only been told a little about his last session with Duane, but she was more than glad to see that her friend Jason, now Duo, obviously had what it would take to get him out of his abusive relationship. "I've talked with Duane," she told him. "He told me just a bit about who you are and what happened. I'm so sorry," she said sincerely, squeezing his hand slightly to express her sincerity and wishing the simple words could erase the pain he'd been through for the last couple of years. "I don't know anything about you as Duo Maxwell," she continued. "I tried to search the net for information about the gundam pilots, but the records remain sealed. There were only past articles, gossip really, that reported what little the government let out about your pasts. I read about the Integration procedure and that you and the other pilots accepted it in order to keep peace with Earth and the Colonies. That gesture was very... commendable," she added. Her expression then turned sad as she said, "He also told me of how you were forced into it again after you'd gained you memory back, that you were forcibly separated from your lover by order of Relena Peacecraft. Are you going to go after her?"

Duo's eyes narrowed, his face hardened. "She'll have her day of reckoning," he promised, a hard edge to his voice.

"Just be careful,' Debra advised. "She's an important person, a celebrity if not a diplomat. Her husband is her bodyguard and from what I've read, he's already killed and seriously injured those who've posed a threat to her."

Duo had already decided not to share the knowledge he'd gained the night before, that Relena's husband had been his lover, that somehow the peace-touting bitch had betrayed both he and Heero in a highly illegal, immoral way to secure Heero as hers. "I'll do it right this time," he told his friend, trying to soften his facial features. "I'll plot, plan and scheme just as she did. I'll have allies this time and I'll take back what's mine." He tone of voice was firm, showing his strength of resolve.

Worry and fear flashed on Debra's face, and Duo had to wonder if she was afraid of or for him. She squeezed his hand once more then let go completely. "Guess this means you won't be giving a two week notice," she said and Duo snorted in response. "I'll miss you." Tears gathered in her eyes as she spoke the words. "Will I ever see you again or find out how things worked out?"

"I can't promise anything, Deb," he answered sadly. "But I'll try to get word to you, somehow. I don't want to do anything that would lead the authorities to you or Duane."

She nodded, sensing their time together had come to an end, and as if he felt the same, Duo stood from his chair and began to gather up his trash. "I've got to get back to work," he stated. He turned to go, but stopped when he felt Debra's arm go around his shoulder and she turned him in order to give him a sisterly embrace.

"Goodbye," she whispered, her emotions rising to the surface.

"Thanks for everything," he replied, then stepped back and left her, depositing his meager trash into the receptacle located by the break-room door.

The three days following his goodbye to Debra were productive and passed quickly. It was New Year's Eve and Duo had finished making his preparations for his departure and he'd all but emptied Scott's bank account. After leaving work on Wednesday, he'd taken the rest of his personal days which extended until January third. He'd be long gone by then and Jason Phillips would truly be a missing person.

Yet the best laid plans always seemed to come with a snag. For Duo it was in the form of Scott Mercer changing their annual plans for New Year's Eve.

TBC


	10. Death and New Year's Eve

Warnings and Disclaimers on page one of this story

**Integration**

**By: Bane's Desire**

**Part 9 - Death and New Year's Eve**

The three days following his goodbye to Debra were productive and passed quickly. It was New Year's Eve and Duo finished making his preparations for his departure. He took the rest of his personal days, which extended until January third. He'd be long gone by then and Jason Phillips would truly be a missing person.

Yet the best laid plans always seemed to come with a snag. For Duo it was in the form of Scott changing their annual plans.

Though Scott insisted he didn't celebrate holidays, New Year's Eve meant serious partying. Jason had come to hate New Years. Scott usually got the both of them wasted and the man was anything but a happy drunk. A red flag went up in his mind when instead of dressing in their usual style of party clothing the older man always picked out for them for the occasion, they had dressed in their jeans and winter sweaters over their t-shirts. Keeping himself out of hitting distance, Duo hesitantly questioned the change and was answered by a grin that silently spoke of trouble brewing as did the simple words, "Something different."

Duo searched his mind for what the bastard's plans might be, but tapping into Jason's memories brought a feeling of dread at Scott's words and that hideous smile. He pushed Jason back down, removing the memories, insecurities and fears that were so much a part of his former self. Those feelings were immediately replaced by his own anger towards the other man. Thankfully, he'd managed to keep himself in check and Scott hadn't tried to sexually assault him in any way since he'd regained his memories. It appeared he'd managed to play the part of Jason well enough to fool his abuser, biding his time until this night. But now there was a change in their plans and a snag in his own for his escape. He wasn't going to give up though. He'd certainly learned to re-think his options without much notice during the war and he was generally very good at being spontaneously. He just needed to keep his eyes open for a chance to slip away, no matter where they went tonight.

The two men left the apartment at nine thirty and Scott drove them into the city center. Jason's fears came back, unbidden, warning him not to ask Scott any questions, that the other man's mood could change in a second and now that his body had begun healing, there was no doubt that Scott wouldn't hesitate to punish him for a simple misstep.

Duo hugged the handle of the passenger door, his anticipation and need to be free urged him to jump out of the car and escape into the dark streets of the city; but he fought the knee-jerk reaction and forced himself to wait, waiting until the right opportunity presented itself to disappear.

The car was parked in a public parking garage and upon exiting the structure, Scott took his hand in a painful grip and pulled him quickly after him toward the part of town he'd never ventured before. Soon the signs and marquees on the front of the older city buildings made it clear what Scott had in mind and a strong sense of foreboding urged him to be alert and cautious. "Where are we going?" he asked, knowing he might be risking the other man's wrath at his presumptuousness

"To meet a friend of mine," Scott answered distractedly. "We'll go to his place after a couple of drinks."

That was more of an answer than Jason usually got and it made Duo wonder, not for the first time, what was up.

Towards the end of the city block that was filled with seedy establishments that pandered to the baser side of man, they entered a club. The red sign hanging diagonal against the corner of the brick building identified the place as The Cock Crows. Without asking, Duo knew it was a gay night club. He'd always loathed placed like these, businesses that thrived on the lusts of patrons too preoccupied by themselves and their own sexual gratification. He'd seen enough of them on L-2, and knew what this type of business did to the poor bastards that worked there out of necessity because it was the only way they could find to make a decent living. He'd grown to hate those establishments on L-2 because they promised better things for their sorry employees, a pathway to more money and a bright future. But more times then not it proved to be a dead end to their hopes and dreams.

Scott forcefully pulled him through the red double doors and into the dim-lit interior. His footsteps faltered as they came to stand in front of a desk that sat square in the center of the garish lobby. Flashing their driver's licenses to prove their age, the older, slightly hunched man sitting at the desk collected a large cover charge from Scott, then depressed a button to the right of his desk which activated a buzzer and a blinking light over the door to their right. He instructed them to enter the door and that an escort would take them to a table. Duo was once again propelled towards the indicated red door by having Scott's arm slung around his shoulders and a painful grip on his arm, just above his broken wrist, to remind him who was in charge. He bit his lip and fought back the urge to break that hand and crush the fingers. Patience, he told himself.

As the door opened, the blaring music from within the darker room assaulted their ears. The door closed behind them with a resounding click, and Duo took a moment as they waited for their escort to arrive to look around the large room. It was dark, with the sconces fixed to the wall barely throwing off enough light to see. There was a bar on each side of the room, with lights set under the counter, a stage in the center everything and was surrounded by circular booths with high backs, tiered so that the occupants could clearly see the stage but not necessarily anyone else sitting down and around them.

Suddenly, a young man appeared before them, dressed in low on the hip pants that were held up with red suspenders, no shirt. He appeared handsome in the dim light, his muscular build was shown off by the lack of attire. Duo estimated him to be in his early or mid twenties, most likely a college student or some uneducated guy with few options other than a job for the desperate. With a forced smile, the man led them to a booth to the left of center stage. Scott pushed him into the booth, finally letting go of his aching wrist.

The escort took their drink order, selected by Scott, then turned and disappeared quickly into the crowd of men standing by the bar. To say he felt uncomfortable was the understatement of the year. Duo could only console himself with the fact that at least it was dark. In this environment he figured he could slip away from his tormentor and hightail it out of there unseen. That thought comforted him for only a moment before another man, a tall, crew-cut blond with large muscles bulging underneath his obscenely tight t-shirt, stood in front of the table. He greeted Scott by name and then sat in the booth with them on Duo's other side, pinning him in the middle.

"So, Scott, is this the little boy toy you've been telling me about?" the man said with an ungodly grin that caused the hair to stand up on the back of Duo's neck in warning.

"Harris, meet Jason."

Duo looked at the man warily, sizing up his chances of taking down the well-toned man. Harris was obviously strong and it wouldn't be easy with his current injuries, but he'd be damned before he let anything interfere with his escaping tonight.

"Harris and I met a month ago at the health club downtown and have since become better acquainted." Scott said as the two men shared an identical smirk, and to Duo's great discomfort they leaned towards each other, directly in front of him, and began an open mouth kiss. He leaned as far as he could away from them, against the back of the booth, and tried to calm down his racing heart, now getting an idea of what Scott's agenda for the night included. He jumped as a large hand landed on his thigh and moved up towards his crotch. He reacted instinctively and pushed the offending hand away, causing the two men to separate and look at him.

"Seems to me your little mouse isn't interested in playing tonight," Harris said with a concerned expression.

"Don't worry," Scott replied with his eyes narrowing as they bore into Duo's with a look of warning in them. "He'll do as I say or pay for it later."

Jason's memories reared up in Duo's mind, followed by a strong sense of fear which momentarily showed on his face. Scott gave the chiseled-face Harris a knowing look and Duo's stomach flipped-flopped in a bad way.

Just in the nick of time, the drinks arrived. Harris quickly ordered a whisky and rye and as soon as it arrived, the two men sandwiching him began to drink and enjoy the act just announced on the stage. The music started up and a slender young man came out from behind a curtain and began to dance for the audience, his clothes seductively removed one piece at a time.

Harris put his arm behind Duo's neck to reach Scott and massaged the back of the other man's neck. The situation plus overwhelming scent of the citrus cologne the blond man wore, combined with the musk scent of his deodorant and underarms smell was immediately repulsive to the smaller man. He kept his face down and schooled his expression so Scott wouldn't see how angry he was. It seemed that surprise was going to be everyone's strategy tonight.

He suffered through their drinking, touching, and close presence longer than he thought possible as the two men continued to enjoy themselves. When he could take no more, he told Scott that he needed to visit the restroom.

"Two minutes," his so-called lover warned. "And you better be back here by then."

Duo nodded submissively and moved to his left as Harris's bulk slid out of the booth. As he stood, his departure was marked by the hulking blond who grabbed his ass and squeezed it hard.

"Why don't you go with him," Scott suggested with a malicious grin at Jason, seeing his discomfort. "Get better acquainted before we leave."

Duo turned and quickly made his way towards the lit sign stating the restroom was located against the room's back wall. Keeping his head down and eyes to the floor as much as possible, he all but ran to the men's room, staying ahead of the hulking man he knew was following.

He threw the door open to the restroom, surprised to see its lighting was as dim as the main room. The reason for it immediately became clear. The smell of sex seemed to permeate the room holding six closed stalls, three urinals and two sinks. In one of the corners, two men were lip locked and their hands were in each other's pants. Sounds coming from the stalls let him know something similar was going on behind one of the metal partitions.

The door behind him opened and he dashed forward, quickly looking under the stalls for an empty cubicle. Seeing only one toilet area was occupied, he went to a vacant one near the far end of the row, entered the stall and locked the door behind him. Turning around, he sat on the edge of the toilet seat while several possible solutions to his problem ran through his mind. Two large feet stationed themselves in front of the door of his stall even as the sound of moans and panting echoed through the tiled, unsanitary room.

The couple going at it in the stall finished first, Duo noted. A fact that was made clear by the grunts, exclamations and blissful moans. The couple in the corner of the room came just after, a little more loudly than the first pair. He caught the sounds of the other stall door opening, of whispers and zippers being closed, followed by running water and the shuffling of feet as they headed towards the door. The room then fell silent.

"Hey kid, let me in." Harris's voice was deep and needy.

Duo remained silent and watched as the man's large hands came to rest on the top of the stall's door and gave it a forceful tug as he tried to force it open.

"Scott won't be happy if I tell him you were uncooperative," he said, and let the unspoken threat linger in the smelly air.

"Is everyone out of here?" Duo asked in a small, timid voice.

"Yeah. Why?" Are you shy or something?"

"Yeah," he whispered back and watched the two large shoes shuffle closer to the door. Standing, he silently eased the lock back.

"I'm sure I can cur.."

The blond stopped speaking and squawked loudly when the door was forcefully slammed open, striking him soundly in the face. He shouted obscenities as blood spurted from his nose and into his hand gingerly touching it. "What the hell did you do that for?" he raged, trying to focus past the pain. He only had time to look down at his hands to see blood there before Duo planted his foot, with all the force he could muster behind it, on the bulging area at the apex of the large man's legs.

Harris bent over, gasping in agony, unable to defend himself as the smaller man quickly moved behind him and kicked the pervert's ass, sending him stumbling into the newly vacated stall.

Jumping high on the man's broad back, Duo grabbed his head and jaw, and from nearly-forgotten skills, jerked sharply up and to the right at a very precise angle, easily breaking the man's thick neck. The bulky body between his legs fell lifelessly over the toilet bowl. Duo instinctively stretched out his arms to brace himself for the fall and caught the toilet's handle, inadvertently flushing the commode.

Scrambling to get off the slumped, lifeless body, Duo struggled with the heavy mass to place it properly on the seat before anyone else entered the room. Once the dead man was in place, Duo took a moment to catch his breath and wipe the sweat from his forehead. He look down at the first man he'd killed since the wars ended. "Sorry, man. You were with the wrong man at the worst possible time." With his apology said, he locked the stall's door and then crawled underneath it, leaving the small toilet space occupied and hopefully not disturbed until he was far away. He then quickly left the bathroom with every intention of slipping away into the darkness of the night.

"Where's Harris?" Scott asked as he grabbed Duo's arm and held him fast to his side before he could get out the front door.

Keeping his face down as other patrons of the club passed by, he answered. "Said he was going to his place to get things ready and told me to tell you to follow." It was a risk, not knowing if Scott even knew where the other man lived. He hoped the lie wasn't going to be his downfall. To his relief, the man shrugged and gave a dismissive snort. "All right, we might as well go now."

Tugging on Duo's injured arm, Scott led him out of the club and into the cold night air and down the less than respectable street. Prostitutes and drug dealers lined the buildings and gawked appreciatively at the two men as they passed by.

Duo kept his eyes open for an opportunity to ditch the other man. He figured the further away from the strip club they got, the better. Harris's body could be discovered at any time, and the police would be called. That was the last thing he needed tonight. Damn, but he hated when his well thought-out plans went awry. They turned the corner at the end of the street and headed down a darker avenue and continued walking. Scott muttered unhappily about having to make the walk in the dead of winter.

Duo spied the dark space of an alley ahead and saw his chance for escape, just as he heard footfalls behind them. He found himself in a bit of a quandary. Flight or fight. No doubt, whoever was tracking them were after their wallets or something more. As they neared the dark alleyway, Duo dug his heels in, bringing them both to a halt. Scott turned on him, his eyes narrowing viciously and his hand rising, clenched in fist.

"I'm not going, Scott," he told the other man in a voice that was totally his own, not Jason's.

"What the hell did you say?"

Duo smiled back, letting his war-time persona of Shinigami surface at last. He decided it felt pretty damn good to finally be in control again. "I said, you sadistic son of a bitch, that I'm not going anywhere with you."

As expected, Scott lunged forward and grabbed for him and pulled him into the alley where no one would see him lash out at the smaller man. Perfect. Duo was now in his element. He reached forward and grabbed the other man's jacket with one hand and flung the larger man against the wall, then attacked, using his good arm, hand, elbow, knees and feet in ways that felt both familiar and foreign to him at the same time. He pulled up Jason's memories of the rapes, beatings and other abuse that had been both painful and degrading and let the anger and hatred Jason felt towards Scott come to the surface. He allowed those feelings an outlet as he attacked his abuser in the dark alley with only the rats to witness the justice he administered.

Scott, to his credit, managed to fend off some of the blows. "What the hell is going on?" the older man gasped, slightly panicked as he struggled to regain his breath after an effective blow of one of Duo's elbows to his stomach.

Just then, two shadowy figures entered at the alley's entrance and stood watching them, their bodies silhouetted against the dim street lights. "Give us your wallets," the voice of one of the shadows ordered, and as the both of them turned to face the new danger, Duo caught a glimpse of light reflecting off of metal in one man's hand.

Moving quickly, Duo pulled Scott's wallet from out of his jacket pocket and forcefully threw it at the man holding the gun. It hit him in the head, startling him enough that his finger pulled the trigger and the gun went off, the shot echoing loudly in the alley way. Not knowing who was more startled, Scott or the two men, Duo watched as one of the shadows bent to pick up the wallet, shouted something at the man with the gun, and they both turned and ran down the street. Taking advantage of Scott's shock, Duo jumped on the man's back, just as he'd done with Harris. He planted his hands with confidence on his head and jaw and felt Scott's body shaking beneath his.

"Jason?" he pleaded.

"Not Jason," Duo hissed in his ear. "Call me Shinigami."

"Oh, God!" Scott gasped and the faint sound was followed by the snap of neck bones and the thump of a body as it hit the ground.

Duo stood up, wiped his hands off on his jeans and looked disdainfully down on the lifeless, dark shadow that had been his keeper and abuser. It seemed odd to him that he didn't feel any remorse for the man's death, but at the same time, his feelings of hate towards Scott seemed to diminish. Maybe that's what was meant when people talked about closure. He wasn't totally satisfied with the evening's events as his initial plan hadn't been to kill the other man, but to ruin and humiliate him. But the last minute change of the evening's plans and having met Harris had complicated everything. He felt a slight twinge of guilt at Harris's death, but it couldn't be helped. He couldn't leave any witnesses to his escape. With a shrug of his shoulders, he dismissed both men from his mind, then turned and walked away from Scott, the dark alley, from Jason's past and into the darkness of that New Year's Eve, to embrace a new year and a new life; a free man at last.

TBC


	11. Close Call

Warnings and Disclaimer on page one of this story

**Integration**

**By: Bane's Desire**

**Part 10 - Close Call**

An article appearing on the fourth page of the Chicago Tribune on January second reported two murders that occurred downtown in the red-light district on New Year's Eve. Because both deaths were similar, the police suspected they were committed by the same person. The article went on to state where the murders occurred and that one of the victims was missing his wallet and any form of identification. Robbery was attributed to the motive for the second murder victim and the investigation was continuing.

Two days following that news report, the names of the murder victims were given and further information that one of the men had a long-term lover that was missing. Jason's name and physical description was given as well as a picture from his driver's license. The police also described him as being timid, shy and soft spoken and asked the general public for help in reporting any information concerning the whereabouts of the missing young man. The investigating officers hinted at the possibility that foul play was also suspected in Jason Phillips' disappearance.

Duane and Debra each had spoken with each other after separately reading the newspaper articles and avidly watched the news reports, knowing that their mutual friend was most likely the killer of and a victim no longer to Scott Mercer. Debra told him the police had been to her workplace and questioned everyone, including herself, about Jason. They'd all told them of the abuse Jason has suffered by Scott's hands and many voiced their views that Scott might have killed Jason himself before he met his own fate. The two decided to not speak for a while in case they became suspects.

It wasn't until two weeks later that Duane came home from a performance at a dental hygienist conference to find a surprise, uninvited guest casually sitting in his living room, drinking a beer. Despite his altered appearance and healing bruises, he recognized the missing person now sporting white, bleached-out hair and eyebrows. He quickly shut the front door behind him and turned to his unexpected guest.

"Long time no see," Duo greeted with a grin and a rise of his braced, broken arm that successfully distracted the slightly older man's eyes from the other's own guarded expression.

"That's a good look for you," Duane said, forcing himself to remain as casual as possible. He now knew all too well that the timid and abused Jason Phillips was buried and gone and sitting on his couch was a trained killer. He'd had two weeks to wonder and worry if the former gundam pilot would return to kill himself and Debra because they alone knew who he was and what he'd done. The police were still in the dark as to who the identity of the killer was of the two men on New Year's Eve was and continued to search for clues as to what happened to Jason Phillips.

Duo shrugged in reply. "It'll be even better when my hair grows out. I really miss my braid."

Taking off his coat, Duane hung it up on the coat tree along with his cap, scarf and gloves and tried to act casual as he turned and asked, "So, what's up?" He mentally winced at the fact that his voice was shaky.

Duo's eyes narrowed and he studied him for a moment. "What's the matter?"

The hypnotist moved to sit in the chair next to the fireplace, positioning himself so that he could use one of the iron tools there to defend himself if the need arose. He sat and looked warily at the young man.

Then suddenly, Duo's eyes widened and Duane noted what he thought was a flash of pain in them. "You're afraid of me," he stated with hurt disbelief.

"Well, you did just kill two men," Duane answered, wary and defensive. "It leaves me wondering why you're here."

A sad expression crossed the handsome man's face and he woefully shook his head. "This is why one of the reasons why I ultimately agreed to undergo the Integration, because people could only see us as killers. You should have seen the hired help in Relena's palace, how they skirted us with eyes as big as saucers, afraid we'd slit their throats if they got too close." He looked up, his eyes imploring as he continued. "I swear to you, Duane, I'll never hurt you or Debra. You're my allies and I've taken pains to protect the both of you from discovery. I really need you to believe and trust me because I still need your friendship and your help."

The dark-haired man studied the other, reading sincerity in his expression. He suspected the charismatic young man could sway anyone to do anything he wanted when he approached them in such a manner. "What do you need?" he asked, a bit more trusting now, enough so that he could feel the muscles in his shoulders beginning to relax.

"Nothing right now other than someone to talk to. I've been more or less holed up in a cheap hotel room for two weeks with only a crappy television for company."

"Did you have to kill them?"

The air stilled between them. Duane had decided to get to the crux of his worry. He'd been plagued by that question since he first read the newspaper article that told of the murders and listed Jason as missing. He knew then that it was Duo who had killed the other two men. He watched now as the other man combed his fingers through his white hair and took in a deep breath before he spoke.

"Listen, Duane, I can't honestly say I'm sorry Scott's dead, but I hadn't planned on doing anything other than humiliating him and ruining his career. I had plans to walk away but they went to hell in a handbasket when he took me into a strip club and introduced me to a man who referred to me Scott's boy toy before they started getting it on with each other. I have no doubt that those two had some pretty nasty plans for me that night, and there was no way I was going to let it happen. I could see that there was no way I was going to be able to just slip away, not sandwiched between two sadistically horny men. When Harris tried to break into the bathroom stall I was in, I killed him. He wasn't a good man, Duane, and I've no doubt what he and Scott had in mind for the evening might have destroyed Jason if he were still in control. After that I didn't have a choice about whether or not to kill Scott. He was a Preventer and my watchdog, and when Harris was found dead, he would have figured it out that I didn't just disappear but that I'd broken my Integration. As it is, the bullet hole in the alley wall above Scott's body, the missing wallet and evidence of an assault has led the authorities to believe he was mugged and that Jason, being the wuss that he was, fell into the wrong hands and disappeared."

"Will the Preventers believe that?" Duane asked, still troubled by the killings.

"I don't know," Duo answered soberly. "They know what I'm capable of. If they decided I'm not dead, I'm sure they'll keep looking for me. I'm not the sort of person they want running around, especially if I remember who I am and who did this to me. What I know about Relena Peacecraft could destroy her and any good she's done. Une will protect her as much as she can, even if she has to destroy me in order to do it."

Duo stretched his arms above his head, held them there a moment and then let them drop down with a sigh. "As I'm sure you've already read in the paper, they publically identified Scott as being an undercover agent working on an undisclosed case," Duo replied, a sneer crossing his lips. "I think they got that wrong. How about an undercover Preventer thoroughly working over his secret assignment." His voice was clipped with bitterness as he spoke.

"Will they suspect you've broken your Integration?"

"Probably, though breaking someone's neck wasn't my trademark kill; that was Trowa's. It was uncanny how he could sneak up on anyone without their knowing."

Duane studied the younger man's face a moment, noting there was a look of weariness and age that would have been more in place on an older person than that of a twenty-one year old man. "So what will you do?" he asked.

"Run and hide." A sad grin tugged at the younger man's lips. "Seems I was destined to do that for my entire life." He shook his head and ran his fingers though his bleached-out hair again. "I was a fool to believe them, that the Integration would make my life better. What a joke." He then laughed without any humor. He stopped suddenly and leaned forward with an intensity of purpose shining in his eyes and said, "Listen, Duane, I'm going to have to start moving soon, travel around without leaving a trail to make sure I stay a missing person. But when I think it's safe, I want to contact one of my other Integrated friends and I want you to do for him what you've done for me."

The dark-haired man understood the serious expression on Duo's face, that what he was asking could once again have an impact on his life. There was no question that he'd be digging himself deeper and deeper into trouble should the government discover his hand in helping the Integrated gundam pilot and his friend. He thought a moment, then answered guardedly. "I've already broken more laws than I can count, Duo. But I'll do what you ask, but only on the condition that you have this person's permission for me to restore his memory and remove any blocks. That means you're going to have to explain yourself and his current life and then give him a choice to remember his past or stay in his present situation."

"He'll give it," Duo replied with confidence. "I located him on L-4 but I can't go there directly. I'm sure the authorities will be watching for me to show up sooner or later at Q's place, especially considering that he still carries the family name. I guess being from a rich family has its advantages, but it beats the hell out of me how he managed that. If I wait a while before going there, keeping my existence from the people looking for me, they'll most likely consider me dead and the shuttle ports will be less patrolled and any watch guard set in place around my friend will relax."

"This person, he's a gundam pilot too?"

Duo nodded. "But that's between me and you, all right?" He waited for Duane to nod before he spoke some more about what he'd discovered about his friend. "I looked him up on the net as well as the other guys. Quat's the only one I found other than Heero's false name. He's still on his family's colony and he's gotten even more handsome over the years. He always looked so young and innocent; now he looks like sex in a business suit."

Duane blushed at the frankness of the younger man, a fact that was noticed by Duo and found great humor at it. He calmed after having a good laugh at the older man's expense and continued with a more sobering look coming over his face. "I looked up every picture I could find, but there was not one shot with Trowa anywhere within the camera's range. There wasn't anything about them being together, only a series of gossip column remarks about Q's apparently very active love life." He looked into the other man's face. "I think they got screwed over like I did, probably by Q-man's family. They didn't approve of their relationship. Guess the rich princesses didn't like the idea of their little prince being gay."

"Prince? L-4?" The bits of information began to fit together. "Are you talking about Quatre Winner, heir to the Winner fortune?"

"I take it you've heard of him," Duo said.

Duane's eyes widened with disbelief. "Hasn't everyone? But wait, are you telling me the only Winner male was a gundam pilot?"

"He built and piloted Sandrock, not to mention Wing Zero."

"Holy shit!" The words left the other man's lips on a faint breath, his angular face was a picture of disbelief.

"Q-man's always been a good guy with a heart too pure for fighting a war," Duo said as he reflected on his friend. "But damn, if he didn't pull his own weight. He was born a strategist and proved himself to be a generous and a good friend. He and Trowa, another pilot, were really tight, if you know what I mean." He wagged his eyebrows suggestively. "I can't imagine one of them being without the other."

Duane raised a skeptical eyebrow. "So you want me to be ready to fly to L-4 on a moment's notice to hypnotize Quatre Winner. Do you think you can actually get that close to him, being that he won't remember who you are? I'm sure he has bodyguards and security to keep strangers from approaching him."

Duo shrugged, seeming unconcerned. "Sure. Once I get there and scope out his home, work and security, I'll sneak in and have a little heart to heart with him or approach him in some other way. I'll try to give you a heads up so you can have a couple of days to get a ticket and make arrangements. I'll pay your expenses and make it worth your while if you're willing to do this."

"Forget it," the slightly older man said, standing from his chair. "You know I've got enough money to pay for myself. It's not a burden at all. Want another beer?" he asked as he stood and made his way towards the kitchen, feeling slightly more at ease now with the former gundam pilot.

"Not unless you've got food to go with it," Duo called after him, then settled back into the soft leather sofa.

"Tell you what," Duane poked his head back out the doorway. "There's a football game on tonight. How about I order a pizza and we'll watch it together?"

Duo shifted on the sofa to turn and give the other man a grateful, beaming smile, happy to have something to do other than watch T.V. by himself another night. "Sounds great," he answered enthusiastically.

Duane smiled back at him then went to get the phone book to look up the number. He wondered at the rapid changes in the other man's personality, thinking a psychologist would have a field day sifting through the former gundam pilot's twisted mind. Duo was a killer - he knew that, and yet he found the former gundam pilot to be charming and personable. Not two weeks ago he'd killed two men with his bare hands to ensure he'd make a clean break from the authorities, a strategy that seemed to be working. And though he found that to be morally repugnant, he began to think that maybe it was himself that needed his head examined. Not only was he harboring a criminal and killer in his home, but he was actually looking forward to the evening ahead. It had been clear, by the expression on the face of the man in his living room moments before, that Duo was looking forward to it too. Dialing the number for the pizzeria, he ordered a large supreme pizza, figuring the two of them would polish that off in no time.

Two weeks later, Duo packed up his meager belongings into a duffle bag that he would carry aboard the shuttle. He checked out of the flea bag hotel room he'd been staying in and hailed a taxi and directed the driver to take him to the shuttle port.

The thirty-five minute drive was done in silence as he contemplated going into space again. He absently rubbed his arm, the clean, temporary brace had been tossed into a back-alley dumpster. It felt like his nerves synapses were firing impulses like crazy because he had a difficult time trying to sit still. Excited didn't even come close to expressing how he felt about going into space again after so long. It could only be more of a turn on if he were flying there himself.

At his arrival, he paid the cabby, grabbed his bag and patted the pocket of his jacket, reassuring himself that the papers that would stand up against any questions about his false identity were in place. He knew the airport well; he'd been there on several practice runs just to check it out. He'd come the first time to check out the shuttle schedule to several colonies and to determine the type of security he'd have to pass through. He noted then that there was a strong showing of Preventers checking passengers at the security gate. He returned another time, in disguise, to purchase a ticket to L-1, noting the number of Preventers seemed to have diminished some. He thought that maybe they had gotten tired of looking for him when they weren't even certain if he was alive or not. Whether that was the reason for their lessening in numbers or not, Duo was grateful for it.

His duffle bag was his only luggage, enabling him to bypass the main desk where he'd bought his ticket two weeks previous. He stood in the long line that would eventually let him pass through the spaceport's security checkpoint. He combed his fingers through his fringe of platinum hair, then adjusted the small oval glasses on the bridge on the bridge of his nose.

After ten minutes, he stepped up to the uniformed security man and handed him his papers and ticket. The black security guard looked at his papers and then to his face to see if his picture matched. The man nodded, seeing the identities did indeed match, then motioned Duo to put his bag on the moving belt that would send it through the x-ray machine. "You headed home?" he asked Duo, dressed in loose fitting jeans and turtleneck sweater to give the appearance of being a young college student.

Duo nodded. "Yeah, there are some financial troubles at home, so I'm quitting school to help out the family. I have to go home and find a job. How's the security job pay?" he asked, and followed up with several more questions, trying to take the man's mind off of him.

"Not bad, but the hours are a bitch."

"Well I don't think I'm going to be able to be choosy," he drawled. "I hear it's kind of hard to get a job anywhere within the colony system."

"There's always something for someone who's a good worker," the man said, then motioned Duo to walk through the scanner.

"All that's left is for you to look into that camera until you see the green light," the man told him, and motioned to the mark of the floor where he was to stand. This was something that was relatively new to the shuttleport's security system. From what he'd gleaned from careful observations during his previous visits, he knew it was a Preventer camera which fed into a room of agents from that organization who scanned the faces of the passengers and put them against photos of wanted criminals. He'd picked up that bit of information from a conversation he'd overheard when an elderly woman complained loudly about having her picture taken and wanted to know what it was for. The security guard had been patient with his explanation, obviously hoping to sooth the older woman's agitated state. Little did he know his explanation was given to someone who needed to know of the latest security measure.

He approached the red line on the floor, forced his smile into a horizontal line, unlike his own smile, and kept his brown, contact-covered eyes that were hidden behind small round glasses, half-lidded and squinting, then looked up into the camera. He began to get a bit nervous as the time that he stood there was drawn out and the green light hadn't appeared as quickly as he'd anticipated. His mind quickly went over his options as well as the map in his head should he need to run for it if they were onto him. Much to his relief, the light below the lense flashed green and he turned back to the conveyer belt where his duffle bag was waiting for him. Giving a friendly wave to the helpful guard, he began the walk towards the boarding gate for the shuttle that would soon take him into space.

He was an hour early for his flight, which gave him time to find a seat in the area near his boarding gate. He munched on some over-priced food he'd bought to pass the time and kept his eyes moving over the crowd. He spotted several plain-clothes men, obviously police or Preventers. Shoving down the last of his garlic bread, his eyes caught sight of two people walking confidently down the center of the terminal walkway. One was a tall blond man and the other a shorter Chinese man with a fierce, determined look on his face. He knew the both of them at once. Zechs Marquis, a.k.a. Milliardo Peacecraft and his old war buddy, Wufei Chang. Both men wore the Preventers' uniform as they strode with purpose through the shuttleport concourse, their eyes shifting to take in the faces of everyone they passed.

Checking his watch, Duo noted that he had about ten minutes until the boarding of the shuttle commenced. He didn't know if they were looking for him specifically, that he'd been identified by their camera, but he knew he couldn't take a chance of being captured again. "Damn," he muttered under his breath. What were the chances that three of the six Integrated in Sanq were now Preventers and two were looking for him? Of course, they wouldn't remember him as a comrade, but were most likely going off a profile of a possible elusive criminal. One thing was for sure, they were no longer on his side and he couldn't count on them for any assistance. Just the no-nonsense look on their faces told him they were seriously dangerous people, and those civilians looking up to watch them as they passed by must have seen it too as they gave the two agents a wide berth, clearing a path for them just like Moses in the Bible parting the waters of the Red Sea for the children of Israel. He would have thought that analogy funny if the situation wasn't dire.

He watched them for a moment and found a strange sense of longing building in his chest. Wufei looked good, he thought. He was a bit taller than he'd been after the war, certainly taller than himself, but there was a strength about him that bespoke of training and a look of self-possession that always looked good on the once haughty and proud teenager from the destroyed L-5 colony. Zechs looked pretty much the same, still looking like some kind of rock star with his long blond hair. But there was something about the way the two walked together, a sense of unity and teamwork. The two couldn't have been more opposite in physical appearance, white hair next to black, Scandinavian skin tones contrasted greatly with Asian caramel. Then it struck him that the two might be lovers. He hadn't known either of the men all that well during the war, Zechs was the enemy most of the time and Wufei purposely distanced himself from the other gundam pilots until it suited his need to pair up with them in the final battles. Yet the way they walked next to each other, moved in tandem, exchanging silent messages with their eyes or a flick of their hands led him to believe they were something more than work partners.

Knowing he couldn't risk the chance that they'd somehow recognized him from the camera at the security check point and had come to arrest him, he knew he had to act fast. He was free now and was determined to stay that way. Moving quickly, he went back to the food court and stood in line to buy a drink, hoping to lose himself in the crowd. As he neared the counter, he kept a surreptitious eye on the two, watching their progress as they moved around the concourse. He ordered his drink and looked around at the tables, most of which were filled. He saw an open spot at a table occupied with a young family. The parents seemed to be wrestling with their three children, the baby was fussing in its carrier, the toddler was playing with his food, making a mess of his fries and catsup, and the older child, looking around ten or eleven years old, was loudly complaining about the long trip ahead of them. He headed straight for them.

Standing next to the table, he asked if he could have the one vacant chair. The startled group looked at him as if he were out of his mind. The father nodded, and Duo sat and began to engage them in conversation, playing with the two little kids while talking with the parents. He looked like part of the family by the time the two Preventers entered the eating establishment. They looked around and Duo could feel the moment their eyes lit on him as the hair stood up on his neck. He picked up the baby and set her on the table before him and began to jabber in baby talk to her. The nine month old promptly grabbed a hold of his hair and pulled, trying to put the white substance into her mouth. Duo laughed at her antics even as his body tensed. As he pried her fingers loose, he smiled at the little cherub face and casually glanced to the entrance of the court to see the two men had gone.

Putting the baby back into its carrier, Duo smiled at the family, bid them a good trip to L-4 and stood from his seat at their table. He quickly left the eating area, throwing his drink into the trash can as he left. Noting the two men in uniform, former friend and acquaintance, were headed down the way they had come, towards the main terminal, he turned to walk the short distance to gate number fourteen while a steward announced that boarding was commencing. He reached into his jacket, got out his boarding pass and felt like lady luck was riding on his shoulders once again.

TBC

Author's note: Thanks to all who've reviewed. It's nice to know this fic is being read and appreciated by you faithful few. Hum... it seems as if some of you have some pre-conceived ideas about how this story will end. Keep an open mind, is all I can say at this point. We have eight chapters to go with twists and turns yet to come.


	12. Contact

Disclaimer and Warning on first page of fic.

**Integration**

**Bane's Desire**

**Part 11- Contact**

Having made it through the L-1 security system after the shuttle docked, Duo made his way out of the busy terminal and breathed in deeply the humid, slightly metallic air that was just a part of everyday life on a colony. He took in another breath through his nose and slowly let it out, a smile coming to his face. It wasn't a dream; he really was back in space, where he belonged. He'd always felt a fascination with the beauty of the planet that was the place of origin for all the colonists, but he was born and bred a colony brat, used to the lighter gravity, the slightly stale air and the hustle and bustle of too many people sharing the same space. It wasn't a perfect life, nor anywhere as visually spectacular as Earth had been, but it felt of the familiar, of home.

As he scanned his surroundings, Duo ran his fingers through his bleached hair, now a bit longer than Scott ever allowed. Pausing at that thought, he frowned. He'd always enjoyed wearing his hair long and was tempted to let it grow again, but probably not as long as his braid had been when they'd cut it after the Integration. He'd kept it long only as an odd memorial of sorts, to help him remember all those he'd cared for and lost; they were his true reasons for fighting. Now that he'd regained his memory of them, and with his braid long gone, he didn't feel the need to replace it. The length, after all, had been from not wanting to cut off the memories of those who had touched it. No, if he grew his hair out now, it would be for himself this time.

With that thought and the feeling of relief he felt at being in space once again, he hailed a taxi with a smile growing on his face. Once inside a cab he asked the driver where he could find a decent but not overly-expensive hotel. The middle aged, bald Asian man was quick to recommend one and began the drive there. Sitting back against the seat, he began to contemplate his next step and decided he'd give it a day or two before he began the process of changing his identity again. With a humorous grin on his lips he wondered what he'd look like with black hair, like Wufei's, or maybe he'd give red or perhaps purple a try. There were suddenly no rules to bind him, he could pretty much do whatever he wanted. He suddenly felt almost giddy with a euphoria that this new feeling of liberation gave him and he hoped it would last through the days and weeks ahead as he watched and waited for the right opportunity to approach L-4 and his former friend and fellow pilot of gundam Sandrock.

Mid May and quite a few identity changes later found him on yet another shuttle, this one bound, finally, for colony L-4. Since leaving Earth, he'd basically led a solitary, nomadic existence, changing his identity with each inter-colony shuttle trip. It really hadn't been as difficult as he'd thought it might be to get hold of the appropriate papers that would match the frequent changes he made in his appearance. There were always craftsmen to be found working in the underground markets who were willing to forge the papers he needed for a price. But his funds weren't limitless and they were beginning to run low. He'd been forced to take on odd, short-term and under the table jobs in order to help pay for his many identity changes, documents, shuttle rides and hotel rooms, not to mention food. It was crucial for him to bide his time, hoping the police and Preventers would forget about the lingering all-points bulletin for Jason Phillips, and that the posted pictures of him, placed in shuttleports, police and postal stations, would be shuffled to the bottom and forgotten in the large stack of other missing persons, criminal and "wanted for questioning"fliers. He was certain that the many disguises he'd assumed had helped him avoid being discovered by the locals or authorities, no matter what colony he stayed on. He'd covered his tracks well. He could only hope that all his efforts would pay off now that he was about to contact Quatre.

The shuttle he was currently on was headed towards his first attempt at connecting with one of his former fellow pilots. It was a fairly new commute shuttle that he'd boarded from the equally new and rebuilt Lagrange 5-2 colony he'd been staying on for the last three weeks. He'd felt safe there, but once again the time had come to move on and his destination this time was L-5-2's sister colony, L-4. During his stay on L-5-2, he'd assumed the name Dai Chao. His hair and eyebrows had been dyed black to fit his new name and his contacts were dark brown and his normally pale skin was now a golden brown, acquired after spending days building up the color in a tanning booth. The changes in his appearance had been deliberate, selected specifically to avoid standing out in a community dominated by Asians. When asked by the curious, random citizens he'd met on L-5-2 why his eyes were large and round, he simply explained that his mother was Caucasian, his father Chinese.

He'd gone to the restroom fifteen minutes before the shuttle was scheduled to dock to refresh himself. Now looking in the mirror, he inspected his reflection with a critical eye and smiled at what he saw. He actually looked pretty good, he thought, though it was odd to see his reflection looking like a completely different person. He was pleased, however, with his growing, shaggy hair. He sighed wistfully, noting that it looked similar to how Heero had worn his hair during the war, tousled and unruly. He closed his eyes at the familiar ached he felt in his heart each time he thought of Heero, the one person he had loved and, for the moment at least, lost, thanks to Relena Peacecraft.

It had taken everything in him not to go directly to Sanq and confront the situation head on, to get Heero back by any means. But he knew that impulsive move wouldn't be wise. He'd tried that before, doing things the right way by going to the lawyer for help. That tactic had landed him in a life far away from his lover and in the hands of a sadistic bastard. A shiver of revulsion shook his body, a reaction he always experienced when his thoughts turned to the man who'd made his life a living hell for three years. Never again, he vowed to himself. He would never again allow himself to fall into the hands of people who would take complete control over his life again. That meant that he had to remain free, remain dead to the Preventers and the government. In order to accomplish both feats, he had to be smart and he needed a plan, which meant Quatre Winner, the master strategist.

Shaking off the memories of being Jason and the unhappiness of his past, he allowed himself to feel a spark of excitement and hope growing from within at the prospect of what was going to happen soon. He was actually going to see and speak with Quatre again. He'd missed his fair-haired friend, and if anyone could help him come up with a foolproof plan for getting Heero back, it was his pal, Quatre.

He felt that the time had come to approach the often written about, popular and only male member of the wealthy Winner family. He'd put off going to his friend until the number of Preventers at the spaceports slowly decreased. He took that as a sign of their loss of interest in him or, hopefully, they had come to believe he was dead. With some of the heat off he felt safer in approaching his former friend.

He also assumed that his past my have been partially responsible for the Preventers giving up the search. He'd once earned the reputation amongst those he fought with of being someone who acted impulsively, going after a target or goal without pausing to think through a strategy. If the Preventers assumed that he was alive and had gotten his memory back, they would most likely try to predict his next move by studying his youthful war profile. The so-called Earth and Colonies peacekeepers would probably anticipate his acting quickly in contacting Heero. After all, it was on his official psychological profile that he tended to act impulsively with little thought to the consequences, and he'd basically proved that theory from what he'd done the first time he'd gotten his memories back when he'd rushed head on to remedy the situation, freeing Heero from his Integration.

Despite his plans and resolve for patience and caution, it was killing him not to follow those knee-jerk impulses and run to Earth and to Heero. He'd reminded himself over and over that his lover wasn't in any immediate danger, and believing that had helped him stay his cautious course. He hoped his uncharacteristic delay in taking action would lead the Preventers to the conclusion that he'd remained Integrated and that Jason Phillips had fallen into the hands of the muggers who had been the main suspects attributed to Scott and Harris's violent deaths. The news articles he'd been able to find on the case reported that the Chicago police supported that theory mainly because of the lack of any evidence proving any other. Jason Phillips disappearance remained a mystery, and the two murders that occurred on New Year's Eve were, for the time being, unsolved.

An electronic beep sounded from the speakers above him a moment before a female voice asked all passengers to return to their seats to prepare for docking at Colony L-4. "Patience," he told the unfamiliar face staring back at him from the mirror. His growing need for contact with Quatre made him anxious. He pushed that need down knowing he first had to thoroughly check out his former friend and his security arrangements. His approach had to be planned carefully in order to avoid the possibility of being recognized and captured. His goal was to attract his friend's attention, knowing Quatre wouldn't recognize him because of his Integration, and get him alone in order to explain things to him. He'd then obtain his permission, as Duane requested, to have his blocks removed and his memory restored. After that was done, he'd contact the hypnotist and have him come to space and work his magic on Quatre, freeing his friend's brilliant mind, which in turn would help him plot out a course to Heero's emancipation.

Leaving the restroom, he returned to his seat, getting a polite nod from the Chinese man who'd sat next to him during the two-hour flight. He thought it amusing that wearing a business suit suddenly lent him an air of respectability. Two colonies ago, he played the part of a junkie and the one after that a prostitute. Sadly, he couldn't help but wonder if he was destined to live the remainder of his life playing at being someone other than himself. It was a sobering thought. First the government more or less forced him into becoming two different people, separate from who and what Duo Maxwell was, and now he put time, effort and money into making himself look and appear to be someone else in order to stay free. Frankly, he was getting tired of running and hiding. He'd done it for years on the streets as a desperate, homeless child and then during the war, but both times he'd been with other people who were doing the same thing. He was tired, lonely and bored, he told himself, and he wanted Heero back in his life. A friend or two would also be nice, as would settling down for a while. He just wanted his life back.

His life. Even as he considered that thought, he shook his head, knowing his former life, even his self-chosen name, wasn't anything he could have in the immediate future, if ever. His life would never be as it once was, thanks to Relena and the new government. Maybe it would get better once he got Heero away from that two-faced, back-stabbing politician.

He closed his eyes as the familiar sarcastic voice in his head suddenly snapped back at him, 'So when was your life so wonderful that you didn't want it to change? Was it ever so good that you'd really want to go back to it?' His life as an orphan and living on the streets of L-2 was not something he'd ever want to go back to. No one in their right mind would. The war? The only good that happened during that time was meeting the guys, working together and forming a bond while they fought their common enemies to bring peace to the colonies. Otherwise, the war was what he supposed all wars were, living nightmares that seemed to linger years past its end.

Then again, actively participating in the war had brought him to Heero. The former Wing pilot with his dark, intense and blue eyes, his strength of body, mind and character that seemed to ooze from his pores like pure animalistic pheromones and attracted Duo as no other had. Just the image of his lover in his mind had him holding his breath and his heart aching with longing for him.

The affecting daydream of his lover was cut off as the sounds of the shuttle docking broke into his thoughts. The space vehicle vibrated a moment, then jerked as metal clamps secured it into port. After a moment the systems shut down and the seatbelt lights above shut off.

"Are you here for business or pleasure?" the Chinese man who had been sitting next to him, generally non-conversing, asked as they both stood to retrieve their carry-ons from the secured bins above the seats.

"Both," Duo answered with a friendly smile. "I've come to negotiate a deal with an old friend."

The older man, likewise dressed in a business suit, nodded with a sage expression on his face. "It's a challenging task, doing business with a friend. One runs the danger of losing that friend if the business deal doesn't go as planned and sours."

Duo nodded, wondering if the man's offhanded warning was some ominous premonition. "Both the friendship and the business I have to attend to are important," he replied. "I can't afford to lose either one."

"Then tread carefully, young man," the older man advised. "For in life, it is hard to balance one's personal life with business. The scales always tip one way or the other. What would you sacrifice if it came to a choice, the friend or the business deal?" With a slight smile, the man turned, briefcase in hand. "I wish you good fortune," he said with a slight bow in farewell.

Duo returned the bow. "And to you also." Then taking up his slightly battered duffle, he followed the older man out of the shuttle and into the bright and clean, yellow-painted terminal of L-4.

He was somewhat familiar with this colony as he'd visited it before, when he'd come to visit Quatre during the war, telling him that he'd found Trowa. That was a day he'd not forget anytime soon. The emotion-filled smile he'd received from the blond that day made it pretty clear how Quatre felt about the quiet Heavyarms pilot. He was glad that the gentle-natured, sensitive blond had also found someone to anchor himself to during the war, like he had with Heero.

Following his usual procedure, Duo checked into a less reputable hotel where his next physical transformation began. Along with another bottle of bleach, he chose a box of auburn hair dye and, on a whim, purchased clothing for his next disguise in the style of how Trowa had dressed during the war. He acquired several pairs of tight jeans that snugly encased his trim legs like a second skin, a turtleneck sweater and several dress shirts with long sleeves.

Just looking at the clothing reminded him of the boy he was going to try and impersonate. He smiled at the memory of Trowa Barton, the auburn-haired teen with the odd, lopsided hair style who was easily the tallest of the five gundam pilots. He had been a quiet, unassuming acrobat with an amazing ability to disappear in plain sight. His stealth abilities were hard to match, almost equaling his unbelievable acrobatic moves, not to mention his knife throwing abilities. But there had always seemed to been an air of restraint to the adept teen, and when he watched Trowa performing with the circus, Duo had thought he was the most pathetically morose clown he'd ever seen. Weren't clowns supposed to be happy and jolly?

The short time he spent reminiscing about his friend brought back how much he missed all of them. He tried to shake off the feeling of loneliness that weighed on him once more, telling himself that it wouldn't be long until he was with Quatre again. The blond Arabian had been a good friend to him during the war. They were the two pilots who managed to find some bits of happiness amidst a violent war and dragged the other reluctant three along on their adventures. He'd watched as Quatre fell in love with Trowa and was happy for his friend when his feelings were finally reciprocated. It disturbed him to no end that Trowa was nowhere to be found in the many magazine pictures and articles he'd read over the last few months. He was determined to find out what had happened and why his friends had been separated.

With that mind set, he pulled his sunglasses down over his eyes and took one last critical look at himself in the hotel mirror. Though he was shorter than Trowa, he did do a pretty good impression of the Heavyarms pilot. He doubted Quatre would recognize him unless Trowa was or had been in his life. He'd know soon enough. Though it had been a spur of a moment decision to take on this guise, he decided to follow though on it, to see if there was some sort of reaction from Quatre when he first laid eyes on him.

Picking up the key to his room, he snagged his duffle bag containing his new clothes and turned to leave the room and that hotel. It was time to change locations once again. The new documents he's purchased and carried declared him to be Grayson Williams, a native of colony L-3 and a recent graduate from the Harland Institute for Business. The forgeries were very good, but then everyone on L-4 expected and produced only the best, and his new forged documents were nothing short of that.

Leaving his room key at the front desk, he walked out of the hotel and breathed in deeply the recycled air, noting that it smelled purer than on any other colony he'd visited in the last five months. His eyes scanned the tall business buildings that represented the business section of the prosperous colony and stood impressively tall as their white outer surfaces sparkled brightly under the colony's lights. L-4 really was an almost idyllic colony, he thought, the epitome of what colony life should be and a testimonial to what a lot of money backing the system could produce, unlike some of the other colonies that didn't have the personal patronage of a wealthy family like the Winners. He began the walk to the next hotel, not far from the one he'd just left, but of a much better quality and only a block from the Winner conglomerate's headquarters.

Two weeks after his physical transformation and the newly purchased papers identifying him as Grayson Williams had been completed, Duo continued to shadow the popular L-4 citizen, Quatre Winner. He noted that there were definite changes that had occurred in the nearly four years since he'd last seen his friend. Quatre had grown and visibly matured. He estimated his friend, once as small in stature as himself, had gotten a much enviable growth spurt that had brought him close to being six feet tall. He was unbelievably attractive and could have been a well sought-out model with his wide set, blue-green eyes, patrician nose, full lips and dazzling white smile. He wore his slightly darker blond hair a bit longer than he had before with the ends curling up slightly as it rested just below the line of his collar and kept the front fringe of blond hair brushed back from his face. His friend's body had also filled out, with Quatre's shoulders and arms being broader, no doubt a result of regular workouts. The width of them were accentuated by his trim waist, slim hips and long, slender legs. Altogether, Duo found the whole package to be appealing.

Yet during his two weeks of shadowing his former friend, he'd never once heard of nor seen any sign of Trowa. He couldn't help but suspect that Quatre's original Integration plans had been altered by his sisters, who had strongly disapproved of his relationship with the Heavyarms pilot. It continued to puzzled him that Quatre had been allowed to maintain his identity and to stay in the spotlight as he had as most Integrated were kept in nondescript jobs and out of any limelight to maintain their new identity. He supposed that being the only male heir to the Winner fortune had something to do with it. From his birth, Quatre's life had been followed and documented by the media and, from his hours of research, Duo concluded there had been some PR done after he'd left the colony for Earth. It appeared that most of L-4's citizens were ignorant of the real reason Quatre had gone to Earth and that fact helped with the coverup. The popular blond remained the focus for the media, and his adoring public had been intentionally led to believe that he'd spent his teenage years on Earth, going to several prestigious schools that groomed him to take over the family's business. Now at twenty-one years of age, he held the lofty title of Chairman of the Board of Directors for Winner Family Enterprises, Inc, and was viewed by the public and press to be what the headlines had dubbed him as "The Colonies' Darling". His social and love life were fodder for weekly topics in colony rag magazines, and they tended to portray his friend as being heterosexual, which surprised him, knowing Quatre's orientation. Duo hadn't believed most of what he'd read from them, depicting Quatre as being a playboy, believing the press to be more of a public-relations ploy than anything else, because the Quatre he knew wasn't a loose-relationship kind of guy. He had to remind himself that his beliefs and knowledge of Quatre Winner were from his past memories of the blond, before their Integration. After knowing how he'd been screwed, he could only guess as to what had been implanted in his former friend's mind to earn him the reputation he now had.

From the city's library and its archive of periodicals, he'd been able to do more research on Quatre Winner. From fairly in-depth interviews he'd read and his own recollections, it seemed Quatre's memories of his early childhood were pretty much intact. However, his comments regarding his going to Earth were completely different from the truth. Quatre had spoken to one reporter about his teenage years on Earth, of attending different private schools. He'd recalled to his interviewer several humorous escapades when he was sixteen that made for good press. His college years were recounted with equal fondness as was his happiness at finally being able to return space and to the colonies, specifically to L-4 that he stated firmly to be his true home.

Pictures of Quatre's recent life had him attending public functions, photographed with both men and women who seemed bewitched by his presence. Duo noticed that his former friend appeared polite and charming but not entirely engaged with the person he was with nor the event he was attending. He had the appearance of the rich and bored that somehow didn't quite look right on the once open and honest boy he'd admired.

From his words and photos, Duo sensed the Arabian had confidence in himself and his abilities, something he'd lacked at times during the war. He now exuded the type of confidence that seemed to border on cockiness and his self assurance in photographs gave him the appearance of always being in command. Looking over the many photographs of his friend, Duo had to admit that Quatre was devilishly handsome, with a winning smile that seemed to capture the attention of anyone within sight of it. Giving each picture a detailed examination, he detected the fine lines at the corners of Quatre's stunning pale-blue eyes. He thought such lines were evidence of the responsibility heaped on his friend at such a young age. Quatre might have everything that money could by, but that didn't mean his life had been easy or that he was necessarily happy.

Studying another of the blond's pictures of a more somber nature, his eyes doleful, his smile suppressed, Duo wondered what the Integration had done to the once sunny, optimistic teenager. He'd torn that particular picture out of the magazine and folded it so the crease wouldn't mar the solemn face centered in it and slipped it into his jacket pocket. He then returned the stack of literature to the reference desk and left the library.

He then began his visual surveillance of the well-known Winner in earnest, taking notes of when he arrived at work, his lunch hours and the eateries he frequented with surprising regularity as well as his activities after work hours. He noted the three Maguanacs who took turns following the blond billionaire around, and that each tall, large-muscled man looked like someone who took his job seriously. Duo followed Quatre to his high-class, swank apartment building and guessed, after a few minutes passed from when Quatre had entered the lobby's elevator and the lights on the top floor of the building flicked on, that the man's home consisted of the entire floor of the twenty-three storey building. On the nights that Quatre stayed in, the lights went out promptly at ten-thirty p.m.

The watching and note taking went on for two weeks, and Duo used the data to try and determine the right time to approach his former friend and comrade. He knew that getting past his bodyguards was going be his first obstacle.

Thinking about the devoted men of the Maguanacs, Duo wondered how they had taken to Quatre's memories of them being wiped out. Their unwavering devotion to the young boy during the war had been admirable if not puzzling. No one could question their unwavering loyalty to the young Winner heir, and it seemed to Duo as if that devotion and their dedication to him had carried on despite their young master's memories of them having been erased from his mind.

Quatre was punctual, he noted. A trait that he'd carried over from his youth. He used that fact to time his approach. Duo hoped that along with his punctuality, the blond also retained his natural ability for compassion and caring. The blond rich boy he'd fought with in his youth was one of the kindest people he'd ever met, and he was banking on that past trait of kindness to gain access to the brilliant mind he knew the other man possessed, to help him get Heero back.

Twice a week on Monday and Wednesday, Quatre promptly left his office on the top half of the Winner Enterprises building at twelve thirty for lunch. He walked out the front door of the building flanked by two very large Maguanacs to buy his lunch at a nearby Moroccan restaurant. Knowing the time and place, Duo made his move. He dressed in his snug white jeans and green turtleneck, then with a lot of gel, he styled his ever-growing hair into the one-sided bang job Trowa used to sport. It didn't come close in length or have quite the crazy upswing that the Heavyarms pilot's hairline cowlick gave him, but it was close. Putting his sunglasses on, Duo looked into the mirror, a satisfied smile bringing up the corners of his mouth. With a good-to-go nod to himself, he turned and left his hotel room.

At exactly twelve twenty-five on a Monday afternoon, he planted himself outside the busy office building, leaned against the taxi sign post and faced the double doors. At approximately twelve thirty five, Quatre came out the door looking impossibly more striking and handsome up close than any of the pictures he'd seen taken of the famous man. There was a certain charisma, an attractive, invisible aura that seemed to surround the person known as Quatre Winner. Now Duo understood the bewitched look on the faces of the people in the photographs, who had stood close to the colonies' darling. Quatre's presence was like a radiating magnet.

The moment the blond, dressed in an expensive, dark-gray business suit, and his two guards left the building, the blue-green eyes fell on him and Quatre's steps faltered, his eyes widened and an audible gasp was heard. But an instant later he recovered himself, turned to his right and walked down the street, in the opposite direction of the restaurant he frequented.

Duo stood still for a moment, unmoving as he analyzed the situation. The momentary reaction he'd just seen in the depths of those expressive eyes that had always acted as a mirror to Quatre's soul was a flash of surprised recognition. He wondered if perhaps Trowa was somewhere in Quatre's life, hidden or in the past. Or, it could be his subconscious that recognized the image he projected of being Trowa. Maybe Quatre had recognized him in his disguise. No, he told himself, that was ridiculous. He was pretty sure not even Heero with his memories returned would recognize him in his current getup. Somehow, he knew that the blond businessman had recognized him, or something about him. It could be that the memories of Trowa had come back to him, or maybe they'd been together and it hadn't worked out as they'd supposed. He and Heero had been warned before the Integration that even though they contracted to be kept together, their new personalities might not suit each other and their relationship might not survive. Had that happened to the two inseparable lovers? Maybe his appearance, similar to Trowa's, had sparked a past memory. But no, he corrected himself again, Scott Mercer was Japanese and looked a bit like Heero, and he'd never sparked any memory of his lover. The only other idea he could come up with was that Quatre might have broken through his Integration, just as he had, and was hiding it, probably for his own protection. If so, how much had he recalled? There were too many unanswered questions, and he was hellbent on finding the answers to all of them, and the sooner the better.

Repositioning himself and leaning against the outside wall of the building next to the front doors, he waited for Quatre to return to his office with his two bodyguards in tow. When at last he did return, the blond man seemed intent on ignoring him; but Duo had other plans.

"Quatre? Quatre Winner?" He called out loud enough for those citizens milling around him to hear, forcing the three men to stop or chance looking like impolite snobs. "Hey buddy," he quickly continued with an ingratiating grin on his face." I thought it was you I saw earlier. Remember me, Grayson Williams?" Duo stuck out his hand as Quatre turned to focus on him with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension on his face.

"We've met before?" the blond man asked in his familiar cultured voice as he took a step forward, his eyes studying the young man before him but ignoring the outstretched hand.

"We had a couple of classes at Straton," Duo answered, using the name of the small private school listed as being one of the several Quatre was supposed to have attended during his teenage years on Earth. "I had longer hair then, so I probably look a bit different, but I'd recognize you anywhere. You filled out nice, buddy."

Quatre's face remained blank as he replied. "I'm sorry Mr...."

"Williams," Duo supplied the name he'd lifted off the yearbook of the school Quatre supposedly attended during the war.

"Mr. Williams," Quatre completed his name. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I don't remember you and I'm late in getting back to work. If you'll excuse me."

Quatre then turned to walk away and Duo wondered if maybe he'd read him wrong . Maybe he didn't remember Trowa. Well, if that was the case, he'd just go back to his original plan. One way or another he had to be alone with the other man in order to reveal his past.

"Well that's too bad, Quatre," he called out in a suggestive voice to the retreating blond. "Because after that month we spent in your family's home in Brazil, I knew I'd never forget you, or any part of you."

The businessman and his two watchdogs stopped and spun around as one defensive unit, and the minute they did, Duo turned away and began to saunter down the street, having a good idea of exactly what view he was giving his old friend.

He got no further than ten feet before a large hand gripped his upper arm and he was swung around. Up close, the Maguanacs could make anyone feel like they were standing in the shadow of an enormous mountain, and the scowl the dark-skinned man's face bore was just as intimidating as his size. But Duo was one of a handful of people who were not easily intimated. "What do you want?" the unfamiliar man growled out as he leaned over to glare into Duo's face. The smell of exotic spices were on his breath and Duo decided that he probably wouldn't like Moroccan food.

"Hey!" he complained, trying to jerk his arm out of the other's iron-fast grip, and trying was about all he could do without showing his full abilities. The man was strong and his grip tightened as he resisted. "Some welcome," Duo spat out. "Listen. I'm just out of college and looking for a job and remembered Quatre's parting words that if I ever needed anything, I should come to him. Guess I didn't make as good an impression on him as I thought I did. Or maybe he just doesn't recognize me with my clothes on."

"Are you here to blackmail him?"

Duo thought he was about to see steam coming out of the man's ears at any moment he was so angry.

"That's not my style, man," he answered. "I'm just looking for a job and maybe a few friends. I don't know anybody here and just thought Quatre could show me around and maybe introduce to me someone who might have a job opening here on L-4."

"That's not going to happen," the dark, enormous man growled out. "So you would be better off looking for a handout from someone else." The large man then forcefully shoved Duo and let go of his arm at the same time, a warning of sorts that he meant business.

Duo stumbled back a bit but caught his balance quickly. He looked at the man and rubbed his sore arm. "I can deal with that," he replied. "But I was looking for a friendly hand up, not a handout." As the man's scowl seemed permanently in place, Duo put his hands up in a sign of surrender. "Don't worry, I get it. Quatre's a big shot who doesn't need his former friends. From what I've seen and heard, his sexual orientation isn't out there in the tabloids, but I'm cool with that, really. I've had to deal with the difficulties of coming-out myself. That's why I'm alone and looking for help from an old friend. My family didn't approve either. Just tell him I understand and there are no hurt feelings."

He wanted to shove his hands into his jean pockets and walk away with a dramatic flare, but that thought was squelched by the knowledge that his pants were way too tight for that. He probably couldn't even get his fingertips into the top edge of the pockets. He settled for giving the man a sad, resigned smile, one that had once melted the heart of the perfect solder, then turned to leave.

"Wait," the Maguanac hesitantly called out, his demeanor softening. "Where are you staying?" he asked, then added, "In case Mr. Winner recalls you."

"I'm not stupid enough to give out that information," Duo replied with a frown. "If he wants to see me, I'll be hanging out at the Flaming Casbah for the next couple of nights."

The tall man nodded, still somber-faced, and said he'd carry the information back to Mr. Winner. He then turned to join the other two men, now inside the building.

Duo watched his impressively large retreating back and wondered whether or not he'd made any progress that day. Somehow, he needed to manage a way to be alone with Quatre, to talk to him, and making it look like they'd had a previous sexual relationship might just give him some private time with the well-guarded man. He needed that time to tell him of his past and open his mind to buried memories so he could help him in his quest for Heero.

He slowly walked back through the city and to his hotel room registered under his new alias, cautious as always as to whether or not he was being followed. If Quatre followed any of his old, precautionary instincts, he'd have the Maguanacs following him, especially after his conversation with the bodyguard.

The moment he entered his room, he peeled off the tight pants, wondering how Trowa could have withstood the binding material. He then turned on the T.V. and lay on the bed in his boxers, socks and turtleneck shirt and began to think about his next move.

Quatre would probably be suspicious but curious about what he'd hinted at. But he'd bet his last credit that Quatre had big holes in his memory that puzzled him, just as he, as Jason, had. The famous man's background, the various schools and specific courses as well as the people he'd have associated with couldn't all be covered in the implanted memory. Even though he retained some of his memory of who he was, Quatre's life between the ages of thirteen, when Sandrock was being built, to the age of seventeen at the end of the last war, was a long passage of time. His own former identities as Chad and Jason had large gaps in their memories, which had been explained as lapses caused by the trauma of losing their parents when he had questioned Une and Scott about them. He'd been told by both that the painful, traumatic time had been emotionally devastating and that he'd unconsciously blocked out some of his past in trying to cope and deal with his debilitating grief. At the time, the explanation made perfect sense. He had to wonder if the death of Quatre's father had likewise been used to explain any gaps in his memory?

The whole idea of Integration, where one's memories could be blocked and subjugated to new, implanted ones was astounding in concept as well as in practice. But Duo had learned first hand, twice in fact, that the procedure was anything but fool proof. He was counting on that in dealing with Quatre, once he got the other man alone.

That evening, he'd arrived at the Flaming Casbah around nine thirty and left at midnight, alone. The popular nightclub hadn't been busy, probably due to the fact that it was a weeknight. Mondays were notoriously bad for most businesses that were entertainment centered, and with so few in the bar, there was no way he could miss Quatre if he came in, even unobtrusively. He hadn't really expected the blond Arabian to show up on the first night, the Quatre he used to know would stew about a problem, whether it was a mission or something more personal for a day or two before coming to a conclusion on how to approach or handle it. But still, he was disappointed that he didn't show, and the sense of loneliness that had followed him like a shadow for months now was all that accompanied him as he returned to his cold, utilitarian hotel room.

He readied himself for bed, feeling somewhat despondent. Seeing his friend and former comrade had left him longing for his company. He and Quatre had shared a good friendship. They both were more open and slightly more trusting than the other three pilots had been. Despite their backgrounds being completely opposite in terms of stable childhoods and economic status, he and pilot 04 had gotten along very well. He'd liked the caring blond a lot.

He paid particular attention to his style of dress the next night. Having selected well-fitted, black leather pants and a deep-blue silk shirt, he felt confident walking into the now familiar nightclub. He'd gotten plenty of attention the night before in dress slacks and a green silk tee-shirt, but he'd waved off anyone who approached him at the place he'd selected at the bar where he could see the entire room and the front door. But tonight, he felt a strong need to be with someone, it was a need he'd denied himself since his re-awakening. From the first moment he'd begun trailing Quatre, he'd felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness. And since his encounter with him the day before, that hollow feeling of being completely alone in the universe had grown, causing a deep ache within him that threatened to overwhelm his composure.

Upon waking that morning, he'd decided that he wasn't going to deny himself any longer, he was sick and tired of being alone. That decision immediately brought a rush of fear regarding his ability to be intimate anyone ever again, and that fear was closely followed by guilt, cause by his flagging commitment to his long absent and married lover. The memory of being held and made love to by the person he'd considered the other half of his soul had become faded and worn, like a well-read love letter. Heero was far removed from him and on Earth. He was now a different person with a life set for him by his lover's adoring, conniving wife. Just the thought of the devious, manipulative woman made Duo's body and mind shake with rage. He wanted revenge for what she'd caused, for all that had happened to him. Hell, he wanted her dead. With his re-acquired skills he could assassinate her and pin it on any number of organizations who had agendas that differed from the proud pacifist upstart. But no, he decided a much better revenge would be taking Heero away from her, from right under her nose. And that was precisely why he needed Quatre. The Arabian had always been the wise strategist as well as an empathy-driven friend. He could trust Quatre to understand and come up with a foolproof plan to get Heero back, giving him the ultimate revenge on Relena. But it all hinged on getting the blond man to listen to him and to cooperate.

There were more people in the club that night, and he'd had several casual conversations with other patrons of the popular establishment as he sat in the same bar stool he'd taken the night before. He was enjoying his third free drink, courtesy of the attractive young woman sitting next to him, happily regaling him with the local gossip about the colony's favorite son, Quatre Winner.

Suddenly, the deep-red, lipstick covered lips paused and the woman's jaw went slack at the same time her eyes opened wide in astonishment. When a hand settled on his shoulder, Duo had a pretty good idea who was standing behind him, judging from her expression.

"Can we talk?" said the familiar voice of Quatre Winner, and the words whispered into his ear sent a rippling shiver down his spine.

TBC

Author's note: I'm going to apologize in advance for any delays in updating during the next few weeks. I dislocated and fractured the middle finger of my right hand last weekend. My writing hand is now in a cast from my fingertips to mid forearm. Needless to say, my typing is being done one handed and incredibly slow. It's near torture to not be able to hold a pen or type properly. I'll do my best to update, but I can't promise to be as regular as I have been. Sorry. Never fear, the story will be completed, despite delays. It's completed in rough draft form, so there's no need to worry about the delay causing me to lose interest


	13. Cards On The Table

Warnings and disclaimer on page one of this story

**Integration**

**By: Bane's Desire**

**Part 12 -- Cards On The Table**

"Can we talk?"

The soft spoken question was uttered close enough for Duo to feel the warmth of Quatre's breath on his ear. A warm, thrilling shudder, an almost forgotten sensation, spread from that small puff of air like a shot to the rest of his body.

"Excuse me," Duo said to the awe-struck woman almost salivating as she continued to look at the man behind him. Turning his head, Duo could clearly see why she'd been so affected. The tall blond man looking down on him had a charming smile on his face and his hair, shining even in the dim light of the room, looked soft and inviting, making any observer want to run his fingers through it.

"Good evening, Grayson," Quatre said in greeting him, talking easily over the background music.

"Hey, Quat. Come to this place often?" he replied with a mischievous grin.

The taller man shrugged, a careless gesture, his eyes momentarily shifting to look about the room. "I've been here before."

As if to prove the statement, the bartender approached them asking, "Can I get you something to drink, Mr. Winner?"

"Just the usual, Paul. Thank you." He then turned his full attention back to Duo and asked pleasantly, "Would you care for anything?"

Duo couldn't help smiling. Quatre had always been one of the most polite people he'd ever met. It seemed that at least that part of his personality hadn't been taken away with his other memories. "No thanks," he replied. "I've reached my limit tonight."

A moment later, a tumbler filled with ice and a clear liquid was set on a napkin on the bar. "Thank you, "Quatre said with a grateful smile to the bartender. "Just put that on my tab along with an appropriate tip, please." The bartender shot back a grateful smile of his own, then turned to serve another customer a bit further down the bar.

"I've got a booth reserved upstairs," Quatre said, picking up his glass and napkin. "If you'd like, we can talk there."

"Sure." Duo stood, gave a nod goodbye to the woman still staring in awe at Quatre, then followed the taller blond man, taking in the slender but obviously well taken care of body. Quatre's shirt, he noted to himself, was perfectly fitted against his straight and strong shoulders and hugged the well-formed back to where it was tucked into the black dress pants that had been tailored to perfection for him, covering, what Duo thought, what looked to be a perfect ass.

His thoughts were random as he followed his former comrade, thinking that, yep, Quatre Winner certainly had it all; family, money, good looks and a body to match. He could only think of one thing that was missing from his former comrade's life: Trowa.

The booth he was led to was located one floor up the stairs and on the mezzanine overlooking the nightclub. The Maguanac who'd spoken to him on the street the day before stood next to it, large and daunting. At their approach, the tall man nodded and stood to the side to let them sit down in the soft, blue leather seats set on the sides of the slim, rectangular-shaped glass table that sat perpendicular to the balcony's edge, giving them a clear view of the bar and dance floor below. The intimidating bodyguard then removed himself to a point roughly ten feet from their position to stand guard while allowing them enough space to converse privately.

"Those guys still fulfilling their blood oath?" Duo asked with a nod of his head towards the bodyguard.

Quatre's left eyebrow rose in question at the information only a handful of people had access to. "Who are you, really?"

Leaning an elbow on the table, Duo rested his head on his upraised hand. "Like I said, I'm an old friend, one that was erased from your memories."

"You're one of them, aren't you?" Quatre asked in a lowered voice, his eyes shifting to the area around them to make sure they couldn't be overheard.

Duo let a slow grin spread on his lips. "Them?"

When Quatre's stunning eyes turned to focus back on him, there was no amusement. "Don't take me for a fool, Mr. Williams," he said in all seriousness. "I've done my homework."

"Believe me," Duo replied quickly, dropping the smile and his voice to match Quatre's change of mood. "I know more than anyone on this so-called idyllic colony of yours that you're nobody's fool."

The two young men's eyes locked, and after a moment, he noticed a change taking place in the blue-green orbs and facial expression of his former friend. There was definitely something present in them that he'd never had directed at him before by the blond, and it was both troubling and exhilarating to recognize it was the flickering of lust and desire growing in Quatre's eyes.

"Is it true we spent a month together in Brazil?" the blond asked, a sexy smile on his face.

Duo felt his body breaking out in a sweat. Quatre was actually flirting with him. His war buddy, who had been head over heels in love with the Heavyarms pilot was looking at him in a sexual way. Shifting nervously in his seat and then berating himself about doing so, he answered. "Yeah, we did. But not quite in the manner I hinted at yesterday. We were hiding out together."

Quatre's face was soft, his smile alluring. "Hiding out together, hmm? Sounds...fun. Who were we hiding from?"

"You don't remember? I could have sworn that when you saw me in front of your office the yesterday that there was a flash of recognition in your eyes." Duo said, his eyes lowered to the Arabian's hand as the blond ran a finger over the lip of his glass, slowly circling the top in a way that warmed Duo's blood. He kept his eyes on that finger so that he wouldn't have to look into the handsome face and see the desire that was evident in the blue-green eyes.

Quatre leaned over the narrow table, edging into Duo's personal space again. "I didn't recognize you, but rather someone I find very attractive. And as to what I remember, I know what it is I'm supposed to remember," he said, just over the sound of the dance music playing. "And then I know what I've been told by my family and those who surround me." Then leaning even closer, his upper body now completely over the narrow table that separated them, Quatre brought his right cheek to rest against Duo's clean-shaven face to whisper in his ear. "And then I have learned what I needed to, to fill in the gaps and to separate the truth from the lies. There are indeed gaps in my life, Mr. Williams, and I'm wondering, are you one of them?"

He found himself unable to form a coherent, verbal response because of the distraction of Quatre's face set so intimately close to his own as well as the heady scent of his expensive cologne wafting into his nostrils. Added to that was the odd, disconcerting need he felt growing within his body, urging him to reach out and touch his friend. All those swirling senses combined to reduced his ability to think logically, so in order to answer the question, he simply nodded his head, his cheek rubbing against the other's fair cheek that was still pressed against his own.

Having gotten his answer, the blond moved back slightly, just enough to lock gazes with him once again. "My place isn't far from here. Would you come with me so we can continue this... conversation in private?"

Duo could see from the heated expression in the other man's eyes that conversation wasn't all that he wanted from him. Swallowing down the lump in his throat, he managed to answer. "Alright. But we really need to talk. I need your help."

"Let's go then," Quatre said as he began to ease himself out of the booth, leaving his forgotten drink. He then stood at the table's edge and waited for Duo to do likewise.

The lone Maguanac followed behind them as the two young men walked down the city street. It was still early, around nine, so the traffic was only moderately heavy. Quatre chatted about various restaurants on the colony and local amusements as they continued to walk side by side. It was a role Duo remembered his friend had taken on during the war, that of being the social guy, always filling the uncomfortable silence with pleasant and inane but acceptable conversation. He was grateful for the chatter and for his former friend's perception. He needed a few moments to collect his thoughts and adjust to the changes in Quatre from the capable but reluctant soldier he had been to the flirty, successful business man he was now. The small blond teen he'd known had been the worrier of the group, yet his adeptness at planning strategy became a cohesive element that had brought the five gundam pilots together and working as a functioning unit, especially at the end of the first war. If they hadn't worked together, they would never have won that war. Could Quatre possibly fill that needed role again by being person to bring them all back together? That was exactly what he was betting on and why he was here on L-4.

Looking at the man now walking beside him, Duo could almost feel the confidence rolling in waves from off of him. There was no hint of hesitation or second guessing in the blond man that had been evident in his youth. His friend had grown into a very handsome, self-contained adult, secure with his place in the world and too damn sexy to be believed. He'd always thought of Quatre as gentle, non-aggressive and cute, and he was having a hard time adjusting to the difference between his memories of the boy he'd known and the reality of the man walking beside him.

It seemed all too soon when Quatre turned towards the doors that Duo recognized as his apartment building. "Here we are," the blond said brightly, taking Duo's elbow and leading him through the double doors. A doorman dressed in black pants and a red jacket rushed forward and quickly opened the door and held it open for them.

"Good Evening, Mr. Winner," the man greeted Quatre, then turned a suspicious eye to his companion.

"Evening, Runnar," the blond man answered politely, then kept walking, pulling Duo along with him as they made their way quickly to the elevator. The button was pushed, the door shushed open. They entered the small space and after pushing the top floor button and entering a special passkey code in the number pad next to it, the doors shut and they began their assent to the top floor.

The two men stood slightly apart and to the back of the cubed-shaped car and Quatre brought his arm around the other man's slender waist, to rest on the middle of his back. "Tell me about yourself, Grayson," he said. "Is that your real name?"

There was a sparkle of mischief in the blue-green eyes that made the man almost irresistible. Between that, their close proximity, the hand on his back and the heady cologne, Duo felt his heart beginning to speed up. He swallowed nervously, a bit too loudly for his comfort, and managed an answer. "No, it's not my real name."

"Is there a reason for the alias?"

"Let's just say that my own name, if heard by the wrong people, could land me and a couple of my friends in trouble. My past, as you've probably guessed, was erased from your mind for a reason. If I were to write a book about our experiences as teenagers, well, let's just say everyone on Earth and the colonies would have a copy of it on their desks."

"So I play a significant part in that history you're talking about, Mr Williams?" Quatre asked, obviously curious.

"Let's just say you and I have backgrounds so completely opposite to each other's and yet we both came together, along with three others, to make history."

The elevator car came to the top floor without stopping on any other floor, and the soft chime alerted the two that they'd reached their destination. However, after the car stopped, the door remained shut.

Duo watched as the taller man withdrew a single key attached to a gold ring from the pocket of his pants. He inserted it into a slot in the operating panel and turned it to the left, and with a soft snick, the two elevator doors slid apart.

"After you." Quatre removed the key and motioned for Duo to precede him. From the elevator, the two entered a small cubicle. "Stand still for a moment," the blond instructed and within the small room, a minute hum was followed by a harsh buzz. Duo realized an alarm had just gone off just as Quatre turned to him and asked, "Are you carrying a weapon of any kind?"

Even though he'd asked in a calm voice, Duo could see the blond's body tense slightly as he readied himself for the possible eventuality that he may have to defend himself.

"I carry a knife," Duo replied, then fished his hand into his pocket and drew out the switchblade he'd acquired the moment he'd first stepped foot on L-4. "I'm new to this colony and didn't know if I'd have to defend myself or not," he explained, then hit the button that shot the dangerous, lethal-looking blade out from its black casing. The both of them stared at the sharp, pointed edge.

Quatre frowned at the displayed weapon. "L-4 has a very small crime rate. There's no real need for weapons," he said. "Is that all you're carrying?"

Duo nodded and gave the blond man a crooked smile. "Well, you can never tell what riffraff will come in on the next shuttle."

The penetrating blue-green eyes studied him for a moment, then a returning, odd smile graced the lips of the billionaire. "Open saysame," Quatre said with his grin still in place and, unexpectedly, the door in front of them silently slid open.

"From Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves." Duo remembered the catchphrase for the opening of the thieves' hidden cave in that ancient story.

"One of my favorite stories from my childhood," Quatre said, leading the way into the dark apartment.

"I remember," Duo said, with a knowing smile and eyes sparkling brightly. Quatre was the person who'd repeated the story to him during the first war.

"Come on." The tall blond took his elbow and led him forward. "Lights on," he said, and instantly the suite was flooded with light that came from three high-set chandeliers evenly spaced on the ceiling in the large room.

Duo's steps faltered and he came to a stop, taking in the decor. "It's... a harem," he said, disbelieving his eyes. From the chandeliers above there flowed sheer, pale blue and green diaphanous curtains that flared out at the bottom to surround three white, large and circular-shaped couches, or were they beds? Duo wondered, because of their lack of a back. Instead, each padded couch was laden heavily with pillows of pale yellow, gray and blue to compliment the flowing curtains. The floor beneath the odd furniture contained thick carpets, possibly from China or India.

"This is similar to how my ancestors used to live on Earth, except instead of a penthouse, they lived in relative luxury in tents or palaces," Quatre explained, pulling on Duo's arm to the seat closest to the white marble fire place. "Fire on," he commanded, and like everything else in the room, flames jumped up and around the synthetic logs at his word. Though it wasn't a real fire, it added to the romantic ambiance that filled the exotic room.

Being pulled along by Quatre, Duo continued to look around, taking in the rooms accouterments that also looked to be imported from the Middle East. "You live here all by yourself?" he asked, noting the pale blue walls with the gold filigree crown molding and glass tables that were artfully set about the room for both form and function.

"Yes." Quatre sat down in the middle round cushion, placed in front of the fireplace and lay down, stretching himself out on his back. With a beguiling smile, he patted the place next to him, telling Duo where he desired him to be.

"Well, when in Rome," Duo said with a nervous chuckle, then crawled up and lay parallel to the blond, handsome man, feeling a bit uncomfortable under the other's intense scrutiny.

"Are you here to blackmail me?" Quatre suddenly asked, his eyes seemed to be smoldering with some inner emotion that Duo felt uncertain about.

"No," he replied. "But like I said before, I need your help."

"And if I choose not to help you?"

Duo knew the answer but he paused to consider if it was the correct one. Quickly going over his options, he decided it was. "Then I'll leave and figure out a way to do what I need to by myself."

The blond reached forward and traced his fingertips down along Duo's jaw. "You're beautiful," he said softly. "I'm glad you're not here to blackmail me. It might put a crimp into what I hope will be a growing friendship."

Even though he could see it coming, Duo was still unprepared for the sudden sensation of Quatre's lips pressed against his own. The kiss itself was gentle and questioning but it soon turned more demanding and needy. Searching his confused mind for a reaction, the kiss felt wrong and oh-so right at the same time. Wrong, because the only kiss he'd endured during the last three years were forced upon and brutally taken from him. There had been no pleasure in the act of kissing for the majority of time he'd spent with Scott Mercer. On the other hand, he thought as his mind wandered back to the past and his friend, Quatre had always been very good at everything he tried his hand at, and from this first shared kiss, he knew the blond was most likely a fantastic lover.

Yet as Quatre's ardour rose, so did Duo's fear. Visions of Scott and the abuse he'd endured under his control came back full force, especially when the blond man slipped his arm around his waist and his thigh slid between his legs a moment before he pressed up against his groin.

"Wait, Quatre. Stop," Duo gasped in panic breaking the heated kiss and forcibly pushing Quatre Winner away before jumping to his feet, the wrongness of the situation hitting him like a bucket of cold water.

Blue-green eyes looked at him with surprise, obviously looking for some reason for the other man's reluctance. "What's the matter?" Quatre asked, concerned.

"I can't do this," he explained, catching his breath as he began to pace in front of the odd bed-like sofa. "There are things about me that you don't know, and things about yourself you can't remember."

"Tell me." Quatre's order was gently spoken, and surprisingly, it calmed Duo's nerves.

Though the words had come easily off of Quatre's tongue, the American found it a bit more difficult to comply. How do you tell someone about two years in their life that had been pure hell, filled with battles, killing, hopelessness, despair and all the other overwhelming emotions that came with war. Still, there had been a smattering of relief, even happiness interspersed between battles. He decided it would probably be best to start his tale off on a more personal level.

"You said you did your own research, right?" Quatre answered with a nod, his face expressionless. "You know you were a gundam pilot?" Another solemn nod followed. Duo continued. "When I knew you," he began, "you were in love with someone else. It was amazing, really, that you met someone during the war, someone who seemed to be a perfect companion for you. I loved someone too," he admitted sadly, his melancholy returning. "I found the person I wanted to spend my life with even though at the time I was sure I was going to die young. But I guess we all figured that it was better to have experienced being loved than to fight and die never without having embraced it."

Quatre frowned, his blond eyebrows pinched together in thought. "What happened to us?"

"I want to tell you," Duo began, "but I don't know you anymore, Quat. I don't know if I can trust you with the secrets I carry."

"Grayson." Quatre held out his hand to him. "Come and sit with me. What can I do or say to earn your trust?."

Swallowing his nervousness, Duo reached out his hand and clasped the one inviting him to sit back down. He wanted so badly to trust someone again, buy it was difficult. Trusting was something that had never come easy to him and he'd only given it to a handful of people in his life, and Quatre Winner had been one of them.

He was drawn down by a gentle tug on his hands, brought to sit next to the blond Arabian until they were sitting side by side once again, their shoulders touching. Duo took a deep breath and looked into the large blue-green eyes and asked, "Will you give me your word of honor that you won't tell anyone about what I say here tonight? That you won't harm me, turn the Maguanacs or the law, especially the Preventers onto me?"

"Preventers?" Quatre questioned, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Especially the Preventers."

The L-4 business man paused for a moment and Duo could only imagine that he was weighing his options against the person he didn't know. Then suddenly, he answered. "All right. I give you my word that I'll never reveal what you say to me tonight. Nor will I retaliate in any way once I hear your story in its entirety. You can trust me, Grayson. I'm as good as my word."

"You always were, Quat," Duo replied, feeling a great weight lift from off his shoulders. "But you've changed, and I needed to hear you say it, to hear your promise and I'm hoping they probably didn't erase your integrity as well with your memories."

"Who are 'they'?" Quatre asked and the room became silent as one young man prepared to let out his secrets and the other to have his life changed.

"Lady Une, Relena and from what I've learned, the Preventer Organization, and possibly even your sisters," Duo answered. Seeing the serious set of the blond's face, he took it as his clue to continue.

For the next two hours, Duo told Quatre who they had been and their roles in the two Colony-Earth wars, how they first met in person on the desert sands of Saudi Arabia, and how Quatre had taken him in and had given him shelter with the Maguanacs after Heero self destructed when OZ used the colonies as hostages to insure their surrender.

Quatre, for his part, listened with rapt attention, his eyes never leaving Duo's face as he described his efforts as the pilot of gundam Sandrock to protect both he and Wufei as they stole shuttles from the Singapore base and made their way into space. Duo told of the horror he felt when Sandrock exploded, that he'd feared he'd lost yet another person he'd come to cared for.

He then told the Winner heir of his love for a fellow pilot. He described Trowa in as much detail as he could and how at the end of the war they had become inseparable lovers. He spoke further of the year after the war when the five gundam pilots went their separate ways. Duo stated that he'd gone with Heero into hiding and that Quatre had gone back to L-4 to his anxious family while Trowa split his time between L-4 and the circus, trying to give as much of himself to the two people who meant the most to him, Catherine, his circus-sister, and his lover.

After describing the events leading to the final, brief war with Dekium Barton, he spoke of their being put under house arrest at the Palace in Sanq and the political chaos that resulted and their agreeing to the procedure known as Integration as a solution to the building unrest between the colonies and Earth.

"I only agreed to the Integration because I was promised a life with Heero. It was part of the terms of our contract in agreeing to the procedure. We were told we'd have new lives but we would both have implanted memories of a past together as lovers." Duo's face darkened then and his eyes focused on the satin-like fabric of the round sofa bed they rested on. "After being slipped some drugs in a drink at a college party, my memory started coming back, and as it did I found out from one of the doctors that had worked on the Integration that Relena had bribed him to alter our original plans so that Heero would fall in love with her."

He then relayed the steps he took to gain Heero's attention and their trip to the guilty doctor's office where he gained back part of his memories. With tears of frustration and anger in his eyes, Duo fought back his emotions as he spoke of Une turning them over to the Preventers even though their lawyer was working on the legal matters having to do with their Integration. "They separated us, and that was the last time I saw Heero before they forced the Integration on us again."

Looking up though watery eyes, Quatre's blurred face was a picture of sympathy, and with a shaky voice, Duo continued, becoming more angry as the tale progressed. "But they didn't give me back the identity of the person I was originally suppose to be, Chad Westbrook,. No" he spat out, "the second time around they turned me into an emotional cripple and a mouse then placed me with a former Preventer as a caretaker who abused me physically and sexually. I endured his torture for nearly three years, unable to leave or fight back because of the mental triggers they implanted in me. If I fought back or thought of running, I was overcome with symptoms similar to a heart attack; the pain was unbearable, Quat. It didn't matter that it was all in my mind, all I knew was that it hurt like hell." A tear leaked out from the corner of his left eye and slid rapidly down his cheek. "I hated him, my abuser, and I hated myself and my life. I was trapped in a nightmare and couldn't get out."

"But you obviously did escape, didn't you?" Quatre asked softly, his thumb coming up to tenderly brush the wetness from off Duo's face.

"It was an accident, a complete fluke once again, but yeah, I did."

"How?"

Duo found himself at a crossroads. He vowed above all else to protect Duane and Debra. In order to do so, he couldn't reveal their identities or the aid they'd given him. But Quatre had agreed, promised his silence. If things went well this evening, he would be calling Duane to make that trip to L-4 that they's talked about months ago. He decided the safe route was to delay telling the whole truth, protecting his two friends on Earth until the last moment before the Quatre would meet the hypnotist.

"I can't go into it just now," he told the curious blond. "But if you agree to help me, if you want your memories and Trowa back, I'll bring the man here who accidently triggered my memories and then brought me out of my false memories to become aware of who I really am and what's was done to me." His eyes turned to meet with Quatre's. "I owe this person big time, Quat, for all that he's done for me. He helped me even though he was putting himself in danger with the by doing so. The only way I can repay him is by protecting his identity."

Quatre gave a slight nod of his head. "I understand, Grayson."

"Call me Duo."

"Duo?" The blond man questioned, one blond eyebrow lifting.

"That's my name, the name you knew me by during the war."

"Duo." Quatre said the name again, as if trying it out for familiarity. A smile grew on his face, showing that he liked the way it fit the man sitting next to him.

As for Duo, hearing his own name spoken by a friend in such a warm manner seemed to melt some of the cold that had encased his heart since learning of his Integration and killing Scott Mercer. It felt good to confide in someone, and it must have shown on his face for he was immediately found himself turned slightly and pulled into a tender embrace, held by two strong, comforting arms.

"You've had a terrible wrong done to you, my friend," Quatre said softly as he held Duo close against his chest. "And I'm sorry for it."

Being held by the sympathetic man, feeling a warmth and security and a closeness to someone else that he hadn't experienced in so long, too long, made Duo want to hold onto the feeling for as long as possible. He turned until he was almost sitting in Quatre's lap and brought his own arms up and wrapped them tightly around the strong back. With his face buried against the blond's neck, Duo found the pent up feelings of grief and loneliness that had resurfaced during the telling of his story coming back again, despite his best efforts to keep them in check. He squeezed his eyes shut and desperately fought the urge to cry, but the wetness on his face and the shaking of his body told him that his emotions would no longer be denied.

"It's all right, Duo. You're safe here. I'll make sure nothing like that ever happens to you again."

Such words, spoken with tender sincerity, were like a balm to his wounded and lonely soul and they left him desperately clinging to the other man, his friend, silently praying that Quatre meant every one of them.

Continued soon

Author's note: Thanks to all for comments, support and sympathy for my poor hand..


	14. Drowning

**Integration**

**Part 13 - Drowning**

"It's all right, Duo. You're safe here. I'll make sure nothing like that ever happens to you again."

Such words, spoken with the tender sincerity he'd always known from Quatre, were like a balm to his wounded and lonely soul, and they left him feeling needy and clinging to the other man, his friend, silently hoping that he meant what he'd said, that he just wasn't offering comforting platitudes.

With Quatre's arms holding him close, Duo's need for him suddenly surged and overrode all of his senses and he clung to Quatre with a desperation he'd not experienced since the night before he was separated from Heero to began his first session towards being Integrated. The memory of he and Heero clinging to each other, their fears of their unknown future combined with the anxiety they felt about the process they were about to undergo and the love they felt for each other had consumed the both of them that night. As a result, their lovemaking had felt desperate, and he remembered it feeling like a drowning man coming up for his third and final breath of air must feel. And now the memory of that night, of those anxious feelings and emotions experienced so long ago, were back and so strong that it seemed to meld with his present, overwhelming desire for comfort and human contact.

At a slight movement from the other man to pull back, Duo reacted instinctively. "Don't let go," he whispered hoarsely, grasping desperately at Quatre's shirt while unwanted tears stubbornly leaked from behind his closed eyelids, wetting the expensive material his face was buried against. In the back of his mind, he knew he was going to feel mortified later by his show of neediness and emotion, yet he pushed those worries to the back of his mind as the two of them eased back down onto the flat couch and the soothing hands of his friend continued to rub his back and shoulders. He felt brief, comforting kisses on his cheeks, tasting his tears. Then soft lips slowly moved across his face to meet and capture his own. At first, he let the gentle kisses comfort him, then as they continued and became something more passionate and demanding, he found himself reaching for the warmth growing in the pit of his belly, a sensation that he'd almost forgotten existed. His need for this type of physical contact was like an addictive drug and suddenly he couldn't get enough. His ability to think shut down as his physical and emotional needs temporarily took over and he began to respond, his hands pulling Quatre's shirt out of the back of his trousers.

Taking that as an invitation, those blessedly warm and gentle hands touching him moved slowly, practicing caution as they slipped under his shirt and covered every inch of his back and chest. Words, unintelligible to his scrambled brain, were soft, reassuring and welcomed as they were whispered into his ear, upon his lips and against his bare skin. Duo felt lost and found at the same time while floundering blissfully under the gentle caress of his friend's hands and lips on his body.

The euphoric and confusing feelings he was blissfully drowning in suddenly came crashing down into reality when he felt deft fingers working at undoing the button and zipper of his pants. "No, Quat...don't. I can't," he gasped in a shaky voice, reigning in his need and desire to have those hands on him again.

Confused blue-green eyes studied him. "What's wrong, Duo? I swear to you that I won't hurt you." Quatre said, sincerity shining in his beautiful eyes.

"You don't understand, Quat. I... I really can't."

The fingers that had been stroking his body began to run through his auburn colored hair. "Tell me why?" the blond asked, his manner soft and patient. "I want to understand."

The calmness the other man displayed had a great calming effect on Duo, and sensing honest concern from Quatre, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You love Trowa," he said, evading the real reason.

"I have no one named Trowa in my life," the Winner heir replied in a matter of fact tone. He then sighed, his eyes searching Duo's. "But I honestly would like to get to know you. I don't know if you can sense it, but there's a... connection between us somehow. Can you feel it? I'm drawn to you, Duo, in a way that's more than physical, though I'm definitely attracted to you."

"I love Heero," Duo replied in a subdued manner.

"But that love existed years ago," the blond gently persisted. "Did you ever consider that he might be happy in his new life? That even though it wasn't a life of his choosing he might have found happiness in it?"

Quatre's logical tore him up inside. Those were a few of the very questions he'd pushed to the back of his mind since he'd first seen the pictures on the Internet of Heero as the groom and Relena, his bride. He still wasn't ready to deal with the possibility that Heero could ever love Relena more than he love him.

"Relena cheated me out of my life with Heero, out of his love. I can't let her get away with it. It isn't right," he answered, passionately angry. "Even if he did come to love her in his new life, once he gets his memories back he'll remember that he loves me and he'll hate her for what she's done." There was an undertone of hysteria in his voice and his eyes were wide as his body shook with his anger and frustration.

"Shh... I'm sorry," Quatre said, trying to sooth the distraught man. "I didn't mean to upset you. But Heero's not here, and after you examine the situation you might see he's better off where he is. If you free him from the Integration, won't you both spend the remainder of your lives running from the authorities, hiding your identities to keep from being recognized and captured?"

"You taking up the job as devil's advocate?" Duo asked sourly.

"Maybe, but I prefer to think of it as looking at all sides of a situation."

There was a moment of silence between the two men as Quatre studied the troubled face in front of him and brushed his fingertips across Duo's cheek.

"There's another reason why I can't go further," Duo confessed, and seeing the flicker of desire still lingering in the blond's eyes he turned his head to avoid the other man's gaze. He felt his face beginning to flame, but not with the shade of passion which had been there five minutes ago, but rather the tint of embarrassment and shame he felt. "I haven't been able to..." He couldn't bring himself to say the words out loud, his humiliation ran too deep. "You gotta understand," he began again, "that I was in a twisted relationship where I was raped for coming home late from work and beaten for things I did or didn't say by a man who called himself my lover. I haven't been able to..." He stopped yet again and silently pleaded with his eyes for his friend to understand what he couldn't seem to say.

A small, sad smile of understanding came to Quatre's handsome face. "You haven't been able to enjoy a sexual experience since?" he guessed.

Averting his gaze, Duo answered. "Since after the first couple of incidents, about three years ago."

Several contemplating moments passed before the two men, strangers and yet not, realized they'd been more open with each other than they had been with anyone else in years. They both paused to assess the situation and then Quatre said, "I think that I might be able to help you. Will you trust me, Duo?" The blond took the other man's hand and held it between his own, studying it for a moment before bringing it to his lips and placing his lips on the top of his knuckles.

"I think I've already proved that I do trust you just by telling you what I have tonight," Duo replied solemnly, though he felt his blood and skin heating up again.

The blond lifted his head. "Then let me try to make this happen for you. We'll go slow, and if you feel uncomfortable or even unaffected, I swear to you that I'll stop."

"That's hardly fair to you, Quat. Besides, why would you want to do that for me? You don't even know me." Duo protested with a frown.

"Let me tell you something about myself, Duo. I'm not the person you remember." Quatre let go of the hand he was holding and combed his fingers through his own golden hair, looking a bit agitated. Then easing himself onto his back, he stared unseeing up at the crystal chandelier above him as he began to speak again. "My memories of my early teenage years are sketchy with gaping holes in it, but shortly after the well-publicized Barton/Mariemaia attempted coup, I found myself attending the University of London trying to figure out who I was." He breathed in a deep breath, held it a moment, then let it out slowly, formulating how to say what needed to be said. "I was angry and frustrated with how my life was going. I felt like I was living my life for others, that it wasn't my own, and there was an emptiness in me that I couldn't seem to fill. I began searching for something, for anything to fill that void that felt like a black hole in my heart and soul. School, my studies and not even my music could fill it, and neither did the superficial friends I'd made who basically were sycophants to my name and money. I'm afraid I took a regrettable path in an attempt to fill that void and shut everything out when I began sleeping around... a lot," he confessed, looking remorseful and ashamed. "I convinced myself that I was trying to find something or someone that was missing in my life though others were convinced that I was merely rebelling against my family, my upbringing, lack of choices for my future or all the obligations that come with being a Winner. Whatever the reason and whoever was right, I behaved badly. I came back to space after graduating still dissatisfied with life in general and facing a future that had been picked out for me before I was born."

He turned his head to look at the other young man, their eyes locking. "At the risk of sounding like the poor little rich boy," he continued, with an unamused smile on his face. "I've continued to search for something more." He touched the area over his heart and Duo understood completely. "But I couldn't find it, I've felt disconnected from just about everyone and everything... until I saw you standing outside of the office building. I really can't explain it, but seeing you was like having a piece of a puzzle fitting perfectly into place. You'll probably think I'm crazy or handing you some weak pick-up line, but a swear to you that I... I think I need you, Duo, and maybe you'll find that you need me, too. Perhaps together we can fix what's wrong in both our lives."

Duo looked into Quatre's eyes and found himself falling, caught up in the blond's story and his own desperate need to have a connection with someone, a need that seemed to align with Quatre's personal search. Yet reason acted as the thread that held him in place and not acting as his body urged him to. "You don't remember, Quatre, but I'm at the opposite end of the social and economic scale from you. I'm a street rat from L-2, a low life thief. I even stole my gundam from G in order to defy the orders for Operation Meteor. I'm not good enough for you, Quat. With me you're slumming."

The blond man uttered a dismissive sound. "How many people have you had sex with, Duo?"

"Two," the brunet blushed. "Heero and my damn keeper."

"I've slept with more people than I can remember, their faces are a blur and their names long forgotten," Quatre confessed, a sad expression on his face and regret burning in his eyes. "I didn't earn the title of Colony Playboy for no reason," he said with obvious shame. "Don't you think I've earned the title low life more than you have?"

Duo studied his friend, seeing the self loathing he had for himself. It suddenly occurred to him that Quatre was floundering as much as he was. That even though the Integration process had left him with most of his memories of his youth intact, as well as his wealth, family and standing in society, it had evidently robbed his friend of something essential. And Quatre was still searching for that something. Maybe, unknowingly, it was Trowa he was looking for, or perhaps a purpose in life. But before his mind could dwell any further on it, he found himself being kissed once again by the blond, and in that kiss he sensed the aching need Quatre had for the connection he'd spoken of. As he returned the kiss with equal fervor, he realized that he, too, was just as desperate for it.

As the kiss deepened, a thought came unbidden to his mind that maybe he was going to be just another one-night stand in Quatre's search for answers. Maybe his more experienced friend just knew all the right words and evoking touches to seduce him. And yet the lips on his own were soft and gentle, not the harsh and demanding ones he'd suffered for so long from Scott. Heero's kisses had been more intense than Quatre's, but the memory of his lover's kisses during the last three days they'd spent before being Integrated brought back visions of lying in bed together, holding each other, touching, caressing and memorizing every aspect of each other's body. Those kisses and touches from rough, calloused hands had been similar in their gentleness as to how Quatre was now touching him. And suddenly the craving for such a touch was back and he knew he didn't want it to end. He brought his arms up, clasping tightly to Quatre and arching his body into the one next to his while deepening the kiss.

Quatre broke it off and looked questioningly down on the other man holding him so tightly. "Duo?"

"I'll try, Quatre," he whispered, his voice shaking with nervousness. "I just can't promise it will work out."

"Are you sure? We don't have to do anything if you're not ready."

"I'm sure," Duo said breathlessly. "I need you tonight."

Quatre paused, his hands tangled in the dyed auburn hair, and Duo watched as something happened within the blue eyes just above his own. Suddenly, it was if time had reverted back to when they'd first met and he was once more looking at the young Sandrock pilot, appearing slightly unsure and vulnerable before him. He lifted his hand to stroke the blond man's pale cheek, grateful to see that there was still something in his friend that had not been changed by the Integration, time and bitterness. His heart warmed further as Quatre leaned his cheek into his touch and looked tenderly into his eyes.

"Come on, then," Quatre smiled sweetly, looking like a teenager again. "Let's go to my bedroom. It's more comfortable there."

Duo found himself unable to let go of his friend as they moved off the couch and out of the room. His mind remained filled with his memories of Heero and their last three days and nights together. Quatre must have sensed his distress, for he guided him through the apartment with an arm over his shoulder, their movements made awkward as Duo clung to him, not wanting to lose physical contact.

"Fireplace on. Lights low," Quatre said as they entered the bedroom. The wall sconces began to emit a dim light and the fire place to the left of the bed began to flicker. Duo paid the changes to the room little mind as he allowed himself to be led to the large, masculinely-elegant bed.

One handed, Quatre threw back the covers and eased Duo down onto the fine-woven cotton sheets, raining gentle kisses on his face and neck. The smaller man kept his hands on the blond as Quatre slowly began to undress the both of them down to their boxers, taking his time in case Duo changed his mind. He then crawled up onto the bed, going immediately into the smaller man's open arms.

Duo welcomed the gentle, experienced lips on his own once again, and he eagerly responded to the caressing hands as they became more intimate with his body. Though he was present in body and responding to the other man's ministrations, his mind was back in time, in a bedroom in the Sanq Palace. And suddenly it was Heero kissing him, touching him and coaxing his body into a state of readiness to receive him. Lost in the dream, he felt himself becoming aroused and let Quatre do as he wished with his body. In his mind, it was Heero's fingers that prepared him, and his hands that lifted his legs moments before he felt and welcomed his lover's intrusion into his body. He responded enthusiastically just as he'd always done with his only lover, and when the tides of passion overcame him, it was with Heero's name, spoken silently, on his lips.

He lay bonelessly limp, emotionally exhausted as Quatre cleaned him up with a warm, damp cloth. As the dream of Heero faded, he had enough presence of mind to know it was Quatre who gathered him in his arms and pressed him to his chest. His blond friend whispered soft words of comfort as he cried softly for what he'd lost and regained. And though his heart yearned for it to be Heero who was holding him so tenderly, he knew without a doubt that it was his friend, his only friend, Quatre, whose comforting arms he was falling asleep in. He felt an overwhelming feeling of gratitude to him for the gift he'd given him that night.

Oooooooo

He woke up alone, but knew in that instant exactly where he was. Sitting up in the large bed in the strange bedroom, he clutched the blankets to his chest and gazed around the large room. Quatre's bedroom was decorated in a more simple manner than his grand living room. The harem theme had been abandoned for a style he'd thought more fitting to his friend. The furniture was more traditional without being bulky, featuring a mahogany sleigh bedframe and matching bedside tables and a dresser. Even the two high-backed leather chairs were burgundy in color, complementing the wood. He was about to study the paintings on the walls when Quatre walked in through the bedroom door, dressed in a long white robe and holding a tray with both hands.

"Good morning," the blond greeted him cheerfully, and he remembered that Quatre had always been a morning person. "Did you sleep well?" He sat on the side of the bed closest to Duo and placed the tray between them.

Duo didn't even have to think about his answer. "I slept better than I have in a long time."

The smile Quatre beamed was nothing short of dazzling. "I'm glad. I slept well too." He motioned with a nod to the tray. "I thought you might be hungry."

Duo looked down to see several croissants on a plate as well as butter, orange marmalade, strawberries and two cups of tea along with sugar packets. Looking up at the other man through the messy front fringe of hair, Duo grinned. "It's a start," he said, nodding to the continental-style breakfast that would never be enough to sate his metabolism.

They ate their breakfast, splitting the croissants and fed each other strawberries. As they drank their tea, they chatted about everything other than what had happened the night before.

Finishing the last of his portion of the meal, Duo put his teacup down and for several moments there was an awkward silence between the two young men.

"Um...about last night," Duo began, but was cut off when two fingers were gently pressed against his lips.

"It was wonderful," Quatre said, supplying an alternative description to what Duo was about to say.

Duo smiled. "It was that," he replied, his moving lips kissing the fingers pressed against them. "But..."

"Shh." The blond shook his head. "Let's not spoil it with buts or second thoughts. We wanted and needed each other last night." He reached his right hand out and caressed Duo's lightly stubbled face. "We connected last night in a way I haven't since...." His voice and thoughts trailed off for a moment before he continued. "Well, since I can remember," he finished with a sad smile.

"But even though you can't remember it, we love other people," Duo told him. "What we did last night wasn't right. When you get your memory back, you'll see I'm right. You love Trowa, and passionately so. You were devoted to each other."

The blond dropped his hand and sighed. "It's been four years since the Barton/Mariemaia incident, Duo. I've changed; I'm no longer the wide-eyed innocent you met on the desert sands. Even if this... Trowa and I got our memories back, I doubt we'd be the people we once were. He'd probably be disappointed with me, maybe even repulsed."

In that moment Duo once again saw a glimpse of the boy he'd known years ago, who'd often doubted himself and struggled with feeling he wasn't good enough and yet remained a humble and kind person who touched all of the other pilot's hearts or lives in one way or another. Pushing the tray aside, Duo moved forward and embraced his taller friend. "He would still love you, Quat. Who could ever resist you and your charms?"

To his surprise, Quatre laughed, a happy sound that filled the room and quickly became contagious. Pulling back, Duo looked into the blond man's face, both of them smiling. "What's so funny?" he asked.

"Nothing," his friend grinned. "It's just that I'm doing my best to charm the pants off of you, and you keep insisting there's a mysterious person who deserves it more."

Still grinning, Duo sat back and pulled the blankets up around his naked body, blushing that he'd exposed himself during that last hug. "You did succeeded in charming the pants off me last night, Quat," he said, feeling slightly embarrassed.

The blond suddenly looked startled and blinked as if he'd been slapped. "I don't want you to think that what we did last night didn't mean anything to me, Duo. I may have been foolish in the past, but I've grown up a bit. Believe me, experience is a hard teacher and I don't want to repeat the mistakes I've made in the past. I don't want to be cavalier with my affections anymore. Last night was very special to me."

Duo nodded. "It meant a lot to me also. I've been alone and unloved for so long that I needed to be with someone, but it really wasn't just sex, Quat. You showed me that the Integration and Scott Mercer hadn't taken my manhood away, and I'll always be grateful for that. You're more to me than just someone who's handsome and charming and you always will be."

A relieved look came into the blue eyes just before a mischievous gleam entered the CEO's eyes and he leaned forward until his face was mere inches from Duo's. "Then let's see what my charms and good looks will get me today," he said with a playful wink and a teasing grin.

Duo suddenly found himself being held in strong arms and lips sweeter than any confection he'd ever tasted were upon his own. Each moment that passed only made him want more of what the other man was offering, and before he knew it, he was flat on his back with Quatre hovering above him when the long kiss came to a reluctant end.

"Wow," Duo gasped and his eyes opening to see his friend grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

Tracing a finger from Duo's jaw, down his neck and trailing it slowly down the middle of his hairless chest to his flat stomach, the blond gave the sexy man beneath him a questioning look. "You haven't seen my master bathroom yet, have you?"

"Not yet," Duo grinned. "But there's definitely a need."

"Then you're in for a treat. Come on." Standing up, Quatre held out his hand and waited while Duo looked at it for a moment and blushed.

"Um, Quat, I don't have any clothes on."

"You're shy?" The blond looked at him, a doubtful eyebrow raised.

Duo nodded, not really knowing why he was suddenly embarrassed about showing his body. From what he remembered of the night before, the body under the white robe, worn by the man in front of him, was strong and beautifully sculpted. The petite teenager Quatre had been had indeed changed as he'd grown into a man. He was now taller and superbly built, and as far as he was concerned, Quatre's physique rivaled the statuesque beauty of Michelangelo's sculpture of David. Duo supposed that in contrast to the fine specimen Quatre presented, he felt a bit... insignificant. He had always been unaccountably thin, even when he was his most fit between the two wars. It was one thing having Quatre see him in the dim light while making love the night before, but he felt much too vulnerable at the moment to parade around naked in the bright light of morning.

As if seeing his inner turmoil and self consciousness, Quatre smiled gently. "Duo, you're beautiful. You have nothing to be bashful about." His words were meant to encourage, but in seeing the pleading look in the amethyst eyes, Quatre nodded and stood up from the his place on the edge of the bed. "Alright, here." He untied his robe and slipped it off his shoulders and placed it around Duo's, leaving himself completely naked. "Better now?" he asked, entirely unselfconscious of his nudity.

Duo pulled the robe on, tied it in place and nodded, then put his hand in Quatre's, which was outstretched towards him, and allowed himself to be pulled out of the wonderful bed. Hand in hand the two walked into the wonderland that was Quatre Winner's bathroom.

It was almost noon before the blond businessman left for the office. Duo once again lay on the bed, wearing only a smile on his face and a bed sheet as he recalled the mornings activities. The sandstone-colored marble tile and mirrored bathroom was enormous. And while Quatre began to fill the large spa bath, the two of them showered in the tiled stall Duo figured was as big as a small room. The water jets shot out of the walls or from up above, giving the person taking the shower a variety of ways to make the experience a pleasurable one. And no doubt about it, he and Quatre had made full use of both the shower and the lengthy bath they'd taken together.

As they made their way to the bedroom, Quatre dressed for work, encouraging him to stay in his home and make himself comfortable. He extracted a promise from him that he would be there when he got home from work so they could go out to dinner together that evening.

Duo was surprised how easily he'd agreed to the suggestion. It had been too long since he'd honestly felt safe, cared for and had experienced the warmth that being around Quatre gave him.

He spent the first half hour after Quatre left for work indulging himself by remaining in bed and remembering the night before. It was an enormous relief to know that he hadn't been made permanently impotent as a result of his time with Scott Mercer, or whatever the son of a bitch's real name was. Quatre had moved slowly with him, sensitive to his needs and his touch had been gentle and persuasive and, gratefully, his body had responded to it.

His next thought was to how his friend had changed. It was clear that the Integration had changed him, for underneath the handsome face and exquisite body there was a great need for something Quatre hadn't figured out yet and his disposition seemed slightly tinged with bitterness. It was clear that Quatre was both resentful and resigned to being more or less what his family had long planned for him to be. The one major choice Quatre had made for himself, independent of his pacifist family, had been when he'd built and piloted Sandrock for the good of the colonies. Though war brought grief and a lifetime of nightmares, it had also given the heir to billions his first and only taste of true freedom. In many respects, Quatre was like a bird in a gilded cage; beautiful and with the ability to fly, but trapped by obligations and responsibilities. But damn, Duo thought, thinking of what he'd seen so far of Quatre's apartment, what a cage to be stuck in.

Pulling the borrowed white robe tighter around his body, he began to explore the space his friend lived in. He had Quatre's permission to make himself at home, and so he would. It was clear to him that his idea of an apartment, in comparison to Quatre's, was hugely different. He found a large, ultra-modern kitchen, a billiard room, a library/office, four guest rooms, each with their own bathroom, a formal dining room and last, but not least, a lap pool. He looked with unrestrained awe at the decadent luxury of having a private pool on the top floor of an elite apartment building. Seeing an absence of security cameras and knowing he was alone, he stood at the edge of the pool and dropped the borrowed robe from off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. He then jumped feet first into the cool, clear water. It didn't matter that he'd spent a good portion of the morning in the shower and bathtub with Quatre, there was just something about the indoor pool that made him want indulge himself. He pushed back from the edge of the pool to float on his back on top of the water's surface. He wasn't a ver good swimmer, but luckily he could float like a duck. And it was on his back that he found a great appreciation for the painted ceiling above the pool that portrayed the blue sky of Earth on a sunny day, dotted with diaphanous, billowing clouds and high flying birds. He wondered idly why his Integration hadn't included this kind of life, but quickly squelched the thought. It wouldn't serve himself or Quatre for him to be jealous of his friend's circumstances. In fact, he was glad the Arabian had landed with both feet back on familiar turf, with his family surrounding, protecting and supporting him. As a Winner, he obviously had all the comforts he deserved. He really wouldn't wish his life with Scott on anyone, especially the gentle blond.

Oooooooooo

There was a definite look of relief on Quatre's face when he returned home that evening to find Duo dressed in his clothes from the night before and reading a book from the library. "I was half afraid you'd have disappeared before I got back," he confessed as he sat next to the smaller man and gave him a one-arm hug.

"Well, I was tempted to leave and go back to my hotel to change my clothes but I didn't want to take the chance you'd come back and think I'd ditched you."

"You can borrow anything out of my closet," Quatre insisted, his smile growing.

"I didn't want to be presumptuous. And just in case you haven't noticed, Q, we're not the same size any more. Is there something in that tea the Maguanacs drink that makes you guys grow like weeds?"

"If only," the blond laughed lightly. "I'm even considered a pipsqueak in comparison to them."

"Well," Duo drawled, his eyes lowering to the other man's lap and then back up again. "At least you're not a pipsqueak where it matters."

Quatre continued to laugh, displaying that his good nature and sense of humor was still in place. "I gather you approve of my growth spurt."

Yes, Duo was quite pleased, but instead of saying so, he merely raised a questioning eyebrow. "I'll just say I've got no complaints."

Quatre bent his head and kissed him passionately, and the warmth he'd felt the night before began to seep back into his body once again. The kiss ended with both young men of equal age holding tightly to each other.

"Damn but you can kiss," Duo said, almost breathless.

"You too," Quatre replied, still holding onto the other's pliant body. "I almost forgot to breathe."

They sat like that for several moments before they pulled apart. "So, what's the plan for tonight?" Duo asked, tucking in his shirt again.

"Dinner, anywhere you'd like, and then back here for dessert. That is, if that's alright with you."

"Is that an invite to stay the night again?" Duo asked with a grin, looking up at the other man through the fringe of hair that fell over his forehead.

Quatre chuckled. "Was I being too subtle?" A crooked smile looked good on the Arabian, Duo thought.

"As subtle as a gundam in a veteran's day parade," Duo joked. "If I'm gonna stay again, I should pick up some of my things at the hotel."

"You won't need pajamas," Quatre teased..

"Good, 'cause I don't own any. But a couple of days in this get up will start your neighbors to worrying about the riffraff you're hanging around with."

"Neighbors?" Quatre scoffed with a roll of his eyes. "I haven't worried about them since I bought the building."

"Well, what about the doorman and your bodyguards? I don't want to mess with those guys."

"I write their payroll checks."

"Smart man," Duo smiled approvingly.

"Then it's settled. We'll swing by your hotel room so you can change and then go out to eat. I'll call for a car."

As the taller blond stood and made his way to the phone, Duo watched him go, worry seeping into his thoughts. Quatre was either falling for him or playing him. He didn't think he liked either idea and it made him feel uneasy. He'd initially agreed with Quatre's reasoning the night before that maybe they could help each other, that being together might help to fill the gaping emptiness they both felt. He'd already had part of his fears squelched when his friend had shown him he wasn't impotent, that Scott hadn't ruined him completely. Because of that, he'd always be grateful to his former comrade, and he no intentions of hurting him. He needed to make sure that Quatre understood that he was going to leave and reclaim Heero, return his memory of his life before the Integration, and then they'd be together. No one or nothing on Earth or the colonies was going to separate them ever again.

The main object of his thoughts came back into the room with a smile gracing his handsome face. "The car will be here in ten minutes. How about Chinese tonight?"

"Sounds great," Duo answered, resolving to speak to his friend about his concerns. But that resolve took wing and flew out the window as Quatre eased him back down on the round pillow-like couch and proceeded to kiss him senseless while they waited for the car to arrive.

Ooooooooo

The restaurant they visited was elegant and Duo guessed it was expensive since there were no prices listed on the menu. The staff waited on Quatre like the prince he was. In turn, he was gracious but slightly aloof to their kowtowing.

It wasn't until half way through the meal that Duo became aware of other patrons of the upscale restaurant eyeing he and Quatre while whispering behind their hands and napkins. But when a man attempted to take a picture of the both of them, he realized just what a precarious situation he'd put himself in. Luckily, he managed to avert his face from the camera lens and kept it turned away while Amir, Quatre's body guard that night, intervened and confronted the photographer.

"I'm sorry about that," Quatre said, his hand coming to rest on Duo's thigh, just above his knee. "I'm afraid it happens all the time."

Shifting his eyes around the crowded restaurant, Duo noticed the eyes of all the patrons were now on himself and the well-known Winner. "I'm sorry, Quat. This was a mistake. I've got to go." He only caught a glimpse of the confusion on Quatre's face as he quickly stood up and, with his face down, fled the restaurant. Pausing for a moment just outside the front doors, he wondered where he was in relation to his hotel. He and Quatre had been in the back seat of the chauffeur-driven car making out while Amir navigated the city streets. That was a stupid move on his part, he realized too late.

"Grayson, wait!" Duo figured Quatre must have considered the people around them when he called out his pseudo name a moment before he grabbed his arm and held him in place. "What's the matter?" he asked, looking anxious. "What's a mistake?"

Duo shook his head, then turned away as a group of people approached the restaurant on the sidewalk and their conversation stopped as they recognized the blond man. It was obvious they'd recognized Quatre and were wondering about who his companion was. "I'm sorry I ruined dinner, but you attract too much attention, Quat, and that's the last thing I need right now."

"Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?"

Duo's eyes widened in reaction to the blond's question. "No, that's not it at all." He answered quickly having seen a look of hurt in Quatre's expressive eyes. "Look, let's go somewhere else where we can talk, alright?"

Quatre nodded. "Amir is settling the bill. When he's done we'll go back to my place."

Duo quickly turned away from the sound of a voice behind him as someone called out to Quatre in greeting. "Good evening," the blond replied with a polite smile, but then turned, effectively dismissing the other person.

Amir came out a few moments later with a white paper bag in his hands. He led the two younger men to the car since Duo insisted he didn't want to stand on the street corner with Quatre while they waited for the car to be pulled around.

The moment they were safely inside and the car pulled away, Quatre raised the sound-proof and tinted window that separated the passenger area from the driver's. "Tell me," he said in a firm voice. "What's wrong?"

Agitated, Duo combed his fingers through this hair. "Everything is wrong, Quatre. Our whole... relationship is wrong for one thing."

"Why do you feel that way?"

It was obvious to Duo that Quatre was feeling defensive and hurt and was trying to hide it. "Like I told you, I love Heero and your heart belongs to Trowa. We're friends, we shouldn't be in a sexual relationship. It will ruin us as friends." "Were you friends with Heero before you became lovers?"

He knew he should have been ready for the blond's logic, but he hadn't been. "Well, yeah. Briefly. We kind of had a strong attraction that didn't let us stay just friends for very long before we became lovers."

"Then I don't see the problem," Quatre said, with a look of infinite patience on his face that Duo found extremely frustrating.

"Quatre, listen to me. I. Love. Heero." He slowly enunciated each word to make his statement more meaningful. "I feel like I'm using you or something. It's not like being with you isn't great, in or out of bed, it's just that my heart is otherwise engaged. When you get your memory back, you'll remember that you love Trowa and you'll see this was a big mistake."

Quatre's stubborn glare silenced him from going on, and Duo became uncomfortable under the unyielding gaze. "What if I told you that don't want my memories back?" the blond asked, his voice dark.

Duo felt he must have looked as shocked as he felt. It never occurred that Quatre wouldn't want to gain all of his memories back, to know the truth about his teenage years and Trowa. "You're kidding me, right?"

"I'm more than serious," he replied.

"Why?" The smaller man was clearly confused.

"Look at me, Duo. Look at my life. Does it seem to you as if I'm overtly suffering? Sure I haven't always been happy, but it's a decent enough life."

"But Trowa..." Duo interjected only to be cut off.

"There is no Trowa, Duo. He's not a part of my life now, nor will he be in the future."

"But Quatre, you guys were so good together. It was like you were meant to be partners for life."

"If that were the truth, then we would still be together no matter how anyone tried to pull us apart," Quatre said with confidence. "I'm not a weak minded individual, Duo. When I want something I work hard to achieve it. If I wanted this Trowa so badly, then nothing on Earth or the colonies would have kept me from him."

"No!" Duo shook his head in fervent denial of what he was hearing. "That's just the Integration speaking for you."

"Duo!" Quatre grabbed his shoulders to gain the other man's attention. "Can't you understand that I don't want the bad memories that would come back with everything else? At present, I sleep very well at night and I carry only a fair share of guilt for those things I've read about that have been attributed to the pilot of Sandrock, things I was responsible for. I know I piloted a gundam, that I was present when my father was killed. I know one of my sisters sacrificed her life to save me and that I destroyed a colony. I've done my own research on the history of the war, that those events are a part of my past, but, Duo, I don't have a direct memory of them. They don't haunt me. Why would I want those memories back?"

It all made perfect, rational sense to Duo, and he couldn't really blame Quatre for feeling the way he did. But with stating his firm decision, Duo felt his hopes for obtaining Quatre's help in getting Heero back beginning to flounder. He nodded his head and diverted his eyes from the blond's intense scrutiny. "I understand. Really, I do," he said in a subdued voice. "If you'll drop me off at my hotel, I'll leave you alone."

Continuing

note: Any blatent errors I blame on editing with only my left hand. /waves to all who reviewed with my blue cast./


	15. A Gentleman's Agreement

**Integration**

**Bane's Desire**

**Web 14, A Gentleman's Agreement**

There was a moment of confused silence after Duo asked to be dropped off, having learned that Quatre didn't want his memories back. Then suddenly, he found himself enveloped into a warm embrace, with strong arms wrapped around his body. "Have you always given into defeat this quickly?" the blond asked as his hands stroked Duo's back in a manner that was meant to be comforting.

"I'm not giving up," Duo said, lips moving against the expensive shirt he was pressed against. "I'll just go on by myself and do what I have to in order to get Heero back."

"Do you truly believe that because I don't want my memories back that I won't help you?"

Duo pulled back out of the shelter of Quatre's arms and looked up into the other man's questioning face, thinking that his own expression probably reflected his own confusion. "Why would you do that? You're a businessman, Quat, and everyone knows they don't make any decisions that won't benefit themselves or their company. How would helping me benefit you if you have no memory or emotions invested in me or Heero?"

The blond looked sad as he answered. "I might not have known you for long, Duo, but I believe you, and I know that helping you turn the wrongs done to you into rights is the decent thing to do, even if it means I'll lose you when you leave to reclaim your lover."

Raising his hand to stroke the clean-shaven cheek, Duo regretted the sadness he could see in the depths of Quatre's amazing eyes. "I'm sorry, Quat. I don't want to hurt you and I see that I am."

"Since you see me as a businessman, let's make a deal between us," Quatre said, a small smile on his lips. "I'll help you find your Heero, do the footwork by locating where he lives, his schedule, and I'll even give you a ticket for the shuttle ride back to him. In return, I'd like for you to stay with me until this information can be gathered. Be my friend, my temporary lover." He then gave Duo a crooked grin. "I'll try not to fall completely in love with you, and when the time comes, I'll let you go. Alright?"

Confused eyes looked into Quatre's hopeful ones. "You'd go to all that trouble for me while asking only for my companionship? I don't get it. Why?"

The blond paused, as if contemplating his answer. Still studying Duo's face intently, he answered. "Because in here," he pointed to the area on his chest, just about his heart, "you matter. There's a ... connection between us, Duo, one that I've rarely felt with anyone before. And if I've learned anything in my twenty-one years, it's that you hold onto something that feels right, even if it's only for a short time. It's the right thing to do, helping you, but don't think that I'm doing this for purely philanthropic reasons or for just friendship's sake. Keeping you with me and being near you is selfish on my part. I like you, Duo, a lot, and I enjoy your company. I think we're great together and who knows, you could come to like me, too."

Duo turned his eyes aside, not able to bear seeing the hopeful look in Quatre's eyes. "There's another problem," he said.

"We'll solve it. Just tell me what it is," Quatre replied with growing confidence and eagerness.

"You're too recognizable, too prominent in the public's eye. I'm in hiding Quat." He looked once again into the blond's face. "The authorities don't know if I'm alive or not. When I ducked out of the situation I was in, I left a bloody trail and a question as to whether or not I was alive. I can't be found out," his voice was adamant. "I refuse to let Relena, the Preventers, Une or anyone else determine who or what I am. Never again," he said firmly. "I can't be photographed or put on the nightly news as your new friend, sidekick, or lover. I've seen enough of what the colonies' magazines have printed about you to know that is exactly what will happen if we become a public item. If I'm recognized, I'll be arrested and then I'll have no control whatsoever over my future."

For his part, Quatre remained silent after Duo's explanation and it was clear he was thinking about the situation, sizing it up. After several long moments he sighed. "I can see how this could be a problem, but it's not insurmountable. We'll order take out, rent movies, and if we want to go out, I've got a few disguises that either one of us could use."

Duo's grin turned into a laugh at the visual in his head. "You disguise yourself?"

The blond man shrugged, a small smile of his own answering Duo's. "I've gotten used to all the attention from the press and public and have learned how to handle it, but it doesn't mean I like it or that I want it all the time. I do enjoy going out looking like someone else so I can just fit into the crowd, become a normal person who can go out to a movie or for walk in a park. Being famous is highly overrated."

"You know," Duo's lips turned up in a mischievous grin. "We could have a lot of fun with those costumes. I've been disguising myself for quite a while now and have gotten pretty damn good at it."

Quatre looked wary. "I didn't say they were costumes, just disguises, and I'm not dying my hair or getting any piercing or tattoos." He remembered quite well some of the disguises Duo had described that he'd used. Actually, the description of a male hooker came quickly to his mind. He wouldn't mind seeing Duo dressed like that, but only in the privacy of their bedroom.

"Agreed," Duo replied, looking pleased.

"So do we have a deal?" Quatre returned to their earlier discussion.

Thinking about it for a moment, the smaller brunet weighed the wisdom of giving the other man what he asked for in payment for his help. If he thought about it honestly, the idea appealed to him. He really didn't want to be alone anymore. He'd always liked Quatre and could in all honesty admit that he was attracted to him and he certainly liked what they did together the night before. And Quatre was right; there was a connection between them, regardless of the fact that he loved Heero. "Alright," he replied, smiling in return to Quatre's growing smile. "We keep each other company while I'm here and you'll help me get the information I need in order to reclaim Heero."

He wasn't sure, but he thought that the blond's smile faltered a bit as he said the last few words, but it was hard to tell when Quatre saw fit to seal the deal with a libido-raising kiss.

They arrived at the apartment shortly after that discussion. Amir dropped them off and, after bidding the two goodnight, he promptly left them to their own devices. With grins of anticipation lighting their faces, the two raced each other inside the building and to the elevator's doors with the doorman unobtrusively watching until the double doors close. Quatre's employee could just barely hear the sounds of joyful laughter filtering out before the elevator car began its rise, causing the man in the red uniform coat to smile, thinking it was nice to see Mr. Winner smile again.

Their second night together proved to be just as memorable for the two, but this time Duo, his confidence in bed quickly returning, took the lead, showing Quatre that he could do top as well as bottom in a relationship. The two young men didn't leave the large, comfortable bed until almost noon the next day, quickly changing the sheets as they rose to get something to eat. They finally left the apartment on Sunday afternoon with Quatre in disguise, raising the eyebrows of the apartment's weekend doorman.

Duo selected the blond's disguise from a chest of clothing that he continued to refer to as costumes despite Quatre's objection that they were disguises. With a realistic black wig made of synthetic fiber that fell straight and sleek to his shoulders and a dark-blue tee-shirt and jeans in a style most teenagers were wearing, the transformation was complete. After a close shave, the final touch was the black eyebrow pencil and mascara used to cover any traces of blond hair that was still visible on Quatre's face.

Duo was dressed similarly and together they pulled off the appearance of being a couple of college students hanging out together. Having gone out without Quatre's regular bodyguards, the two enjoyed the freedom their disguises brought, taking in a movie, eating at a sidewalk café and window shopping without anyone giving them a second glance.

That night, Quatre managed to talk Duo into moving out of his hotel completely and into his spacious suite. As they lay in the large bed, huddled naked and warm in each other's embrace, the blond gave an audible sigh of contentment as he lay his flaxen head against Duo's pale, slightly moist chest and listened to the heartbeat beneath his ear as it began to slow from their exertions.

Duo lay for a moment, soaking up the sensations of being sated on so many levels. For the first time in years he felt contentment, a feeling that had eluded him for so long that he had to search his memory to identify the sensation. His belly was full, his body satisfied, and he was laying in a comfortable bed with a warm, caring and energetic friend. A lazy smile came to his lips and he bent his head to kiss the top of the blond head. When they'd fought together during the wars, he never dreamed he'd ever have sex with the Sandrock pilot, but that didn't mean he hadn't appreciated the Arabian's natural charms. He'd have to have been blind not to see that Quatre was attractive and had a certain appeal that made you want to be near him. Even as a teenager, he'd been intelligent and wise, kind and caring. Quatre been a beacon of sorts to him and to the other pilots during the many dark days of war. But he'd been so wrapped up in Heero, trying to free his lover from the cold, ruthless soldier he'd been trained into being, to notice anything more about Quatre, other than he seemed blissfully in love with the quiet Heavyarms pilot.

As he lay in bed with Quatre's head settled on his chest, he recalled having felt some jealousy at times regarding the relationship the other two pilots had. Though they'd had a few bumpy moments, they generally had a calm and gentle relationship. The two seemed to heal each other from the horrors of war and they certainly got along better than he and Heero did at times. Where Quatre and Trowa's relationship was generally constant and supportive, he and Heero seemed to find one obstacle after another that challenged their being together. Heero's training seemed insurmountable at times, and his rigidity in following orders, doing anything to see the mission accomplished, was often a source of contention between them. Relena's persistent pursuit of her "knight in shining armor" and their frequent separations were also hurdles they'd had to surmount.

Heero. The ache of longing the memory of his lover brought was almost a physical pain within his chest. He quickly pushed all thoughts of his lover and his heaviness of heart away. Thinking about his former lover now, after he and Quatre had just made love, seemed traitorous, to both of them at the same time. He decided to leave his discussion with Quatre about Heero and his plans for emancipating him for another time, when they weren't having an intimate moment.

"You know." Quatre's voice brought him out of his thoughts as did the lips being pressed against his chest, planting teasing kisses. "I've only asked one other person to live with me before."

"It didn't work out?" Duo asked.

"I guess you could say that. He had a career on another colony that he wanted to pursue."

Duo couldn't believe that some schmuck could ever turn down the chance of having a life with drop-dead gorgeous and sexy as hell billionaire, Quatre Winner. "What an idiot," he said in reply to the blond's statement.

"No," Quatre's voice was but a whisper as he spoke. "I could see where his happiness lay, and I loved him enough to let him go." He sighed deeply, his warm breath tickling Duo's chest. "I sometimes think that it's my destiny, at least where my heart is concerned, to find love only to have to let it go. Seems rather fitting though, doesn't it? I'm someone who can buy anything that takes my fancy on the Earth and colonies, no matter what the cost, but the one thing I really desire out of life can't be purchased."

Duo combed his fingers through the soft, silky hair, not liking the sadness in Quatre's voice. "Did you love him that much?" he asked.

Quatre breathed in deeply and let the breath out slowly. "I did then. It broke my heart when he told me he needed to leave. But he's happy now, and I've contented myself with my own life. I guess it's true that time heals all wounds."

"Don't fall in love with me, Quatre," Duo warned with all soberness. "You know I have to leave."

Raising his head from off his chest, Quatre's blue-green eyes looked into his own. "I've more or less come to terms that I'll probably never love and be loved equally in return, so I take what I can get and content myself with the moment." He then lowered his head back down onto the place that was warm from his touch and wrapped his arms around his temporary lover.

Quatre's words didn't settle well with Duo. It seemed so pessimistic, something he never attributed with the usually optimistic Arabian. He'd glimpsed a momentary look of infinite sadness on the blond's face, and it was a deeper unhappiness than any expression he'd ever seen in the blond's countenance before. He felt guilty because of the terms of his relationship that they'd agreed to, for he was enjoying the benefits of living in a high-scale apartment and having mind-blowing sex daily with his good friend while the both of them knew he would be leaving.

"I'm sorry, Quat," he said sincerely.

"Shh," he was immediately hushed. "The time for regrets will come after you're gone, but not now when I can still hold you."

They both fell into a contemplative silence, remaining like that for a long while, neither speaking or moving, imagining the consequences that would eventually come from their temporary association. It seemed to take half the night before either man drifted off to sleep in the early hours of the morning.

Oooooooooooo

Quatre came bounding through the door to the swimming pool at twelve forty five several days after they'd made their agreement, excitement brimming in his eyes. "Duo, how would you like a job?" he asked excitedly.

Climbing out of the water, naked as the day he was born, Duo grinned at his lover as he reached for his towel that he'd placed on a nearby chair. "Guess that depends on what the job is," he replied.

"Several of my sisters informed me by way of a memo this morning that I need to hire a personal assistant, someone who will keep my schedule up to date and make sure I arrive at my meetings on time." He gave Duo a sheepish grin. "Evidently, since your arrival into my life, my tardiness to work, the longer than usual lunch hours as well as my leaving the office early at the end of the day has been noted by several people."

Duo grinned as he wrapped the towel around his hips and tucked the corner in to secure it. "Considering that I'm part of the problem, are you sure they want to make me part of the solution?"

"They, meaning my sisters, don't know about you. So don't you see," he stepped in front Duo and reached out to run both of his open hands up and down his wet arms, a suggestive smile on his face, "it's perfect. You and I can be around each other all day." A quick flicker of doubt crossed his face before he added, "That is, if you want to."

A dubious look crossed Duo's face and the cinnamon brown eyebrows rose. "And you think the nature of our relationship won't be noticed?" he asked.

In response, Quatre took another step closer, his large blue eyes glistening with mischief as he bent down to press his lips against Duo's cheek while his hands removed the just-wrapped towel from off his waist. A tremor of desire shot up the brunette's spine as the questing hands cupped the globes of his bottom and began to knead them. He tilted his chin upward to greet the lips that were eager to meet his own and they more or less devoured each other. Then suddenly, Quatre stepped back and dropped to his knees and took his lover into his mouth.

Duo's head fell back as pleasure coursed through his body. Quatre's mouth was like a treasure trove of pleasure. His technique was much like the man himself, gentle, aggressive, playful and determined. He couldn't imagine being in the blond's presence all day and resisting his charms. Then a humorous thought flashed into his mind. Here he was, a homeless street kid from the notoriously poor colony of L-2, and the richest man in the solar system was on his knees, going down on him. Wouldn't his old gang have gotten a kick out of that? Then all thoughts of the past and future fled his mind as his body responded to the pleasure it was being given him at the present time. He cried out his lover's name as he started to peak, and tightly gripped the hands that had settled on his hips as he soared over the edge.

Duo sank to his knees, overwhelmed by the tingling sensation his body experienced following his climax. Quatre caught him and held him tightly as he began to recover. After a few moments, he came back to some sense of normality and pulled back slightly to look into the humor-filled, ocean-tinted orbs. "Is there something I can do for you?" he asked the blond in a husky voice, his hand moving to the bulge in front of the dress slacks.

Quatre smiled and gave him a brief kiss. "No time. Get dressed so we can go shopping. If you're going to work for me, you're going to look sharp. You are taking the job, aren't you?"

Duo chuckled. "Was that a negotiation tactic?"

"Only if it worked. Now what's your answer?" The beguiling smile on the blond man's face was one that Duo knew he could never say no to. He threw out all his doubts and reservations. "How can I refuse?"

Quatre impulsively hugged him and then stood up, pulling Duo with him. "I promise, you won't regret this," he said cheerfully, then playfully slapped Duo's bare bottom. "Now hurry and dress, I'm on my lunch hour."

Fifteen minutes later, Duo found himself in an exclusive men's clothing store. Quatre was surrounded by a flurry of activity as he told several eager clerks what his companion needed. Two hours and fifteen thousand credits later, Duo had enough clothes to last ten working days and an equal amount of casual clothing.

Quatre had left him to return to the office an hour earlier. The packages of clothing were to be delivered back to the apartment by the end of the day. The cost of the entire outing was put on the affluent man's gundanium credit card without the clerks blinking an eye at the large sum of money spent in such a short amount of time.

Duo strolled leisurely down the busy downtown street wearing some of the more casual clothing that Quatre had picked out for him. There was no demand on his time at the moment so he walked without any real purpose, gazing into the windows of various shops he passed on his way back to the apartment. When he first caught sight of his reflection in a storefront window, he did a double take. The brown slacks and cream-colored t-shirt he wore suited his body very well. He looked good, he thought, and wondered halfheartedly if Heero would like it. He'd never put much store in expensive clothing, figuring clothes were clothes. He could get a shirt and pants at any retail or thrift store and be satisfied. But he realized the clothes he now wore, of which he'd been silently horrified at the price tags, felt very good against his skin. He wondered if the difference was because of a higher thread count than his other clothing, like the luxurious sheets on Quatre's bed, but let his curiosity and train of thought on the subject drift away as he decided his reflection in the store window was missing only one thing, and that was his braid. Damn, but he missed his long rope of hair, more than he would ever admit to anyone else. He craved to grow it out again but the chance of discovery was just too great, especially when hanging around Quatre, Mr. Popularity. Thinking about his friend brought a warm feeling to his heart and a smile to his face. Quatre was really looking forward to his coming to work for him, and that infectious excitement had won over his hesitance. Knowing the information Quatre was going to get for him regarding Heero was going to take some time, he decided it would be better to keep himself occupied.

His frown diminished as he was reminded of how indebted he was becoming to his blond lover. Not only had Quatre taken him in, but he was helping him heal from some of the aftereffects of being under Scott Mercer's merciless care for several years. Added to that, Quatre was going to help him get Heero back and got him a well-paying job and bought him a small fortune in clothing. He wondered how he was ever going to pay the Arabian back for his generosity. The smile crept back onto his face as a few ideas came to his mind. He chuckled to himself as he began the walk back to the apartment. If his sex drive had disappeared during his time with Scott, it was now back with a vengeance. As an idea formed in his mind, he made several detours, purchasing some things in preparation for the two of them to spend a night at home together.

Oooooooooo

The brunet walked into the harem-style living room, arms laden with packages of food and video tapes. He realized that the unusual room and its show of wealth no longer held him in awe as it once had. He wondered at having adjusted so quickly to the ostentatious surroundings despite his more than humble beginnings. He paused for a moment to contemplate whether or not it would be more difficult for a person of wealth to adjust from that more enviable status to one of abject poverty, like the life he had known on the streets of L-2. He was fairly certain that it would be. But Quatre had proven himself to be the exception.

His thoughts turned again to the blond, who had left all this luxury and gone off to war, sometimes forced to live in dilapidated hovels and in substandard conditions. As he made his way to the kitchen with his bags of Tai food, he realized Quatre seemed to be cut from a different mold than any other wealthy person he'd ever met. He'd seen the obscenely rich boy eat unappetising food out of tin cans and wear the same clothes for days on end when the need arose. And though none of them liked it, Quatre never whined about it, and that had been a major plus in Duo's book. The familiar warmth he experienced whenever he thought about the blond man spread out from his chest again as he reminded himself that Quatre was one hell of a guy and he was lucky to know him.

Oooooooo

The person who'd been in his thoughts that afternoon arrived home a little after six p.m., an infectious grin on his face as he walked through the door. Duo thought that if that smile was any indication, they were in for a great evening.

"How did the rest of your shopping go?" Quatre asked. "Did you get everything you need?"Duo nodded. "Thanks. I'll start paying you back after I get a paycheck, or ten," he corrected as the fifteen thousand credit figure loomed in his mind.

The blond waved his hand in dismissal of the offer. "You're coming to work for me and have to dress accordingly. I'll write it off as a business expense."

"Quatre..." Duo began to protest but was interrupted by the other man raising a hand to stop him.

"I insist, Duo. Now let's not make an issue of this and mar what could be the start of a wonderful weekend." The blond then stepped up to the brunet and kissed him soundly, ending any further argument.

As they pulled apart, Duo grinned up at him. "I gotta say that I like the way you end an argument," he chuckled. "I suppose I'd better learn to pick my battles when it comes to you."

Quatre smiled in approval then took his arm and led him over to one of the three round couch/beds and they sat down together, their bodies in constant contact until Duo lay back to stare at the crystal chandelier above. "You know, if I were to stay here for any length of time, I think I'd advise you to redecorate."

"You don't like my ancestral theme room?" The blond grinned, obviously not insulted. "My sister will be hurt, having designed it herself." Quatre laughed lightly as he eased himself down to rest next to the other man. Yet instead of studying the obscenely expensive lighting above, his head turned so that he could gaze at Duo's profile.

"I guess it's just not my taste," the brunet continued. "Makes me feel like a concubine of some sheik or something. Just not masculine enough, I guess."

One blond eyebrow rose. "Are you questioning my masculinity?"

"Definitely not!" Duo replied, laughing but adamant. "You're a fine specimen of a man." He turned slightly and ran his hand over the strong shoulders, built up from hours of swimming.

It was obvious that the Arabian enjoyed the touch as his eyes slid halfway closed and his hand reached out to brush some of the long hair away from Duo's eyes. "I guess I haven't thought much about this place other than it's my sanctuary from my family, work and the public. I spend most of my time in the bedroom and pool area. In fact, I don't think I've ever spent this much time at home before."

The comment, though spoken lightly, made Duo feel guilty that they were forced to spend much of their time away from curious eyes in order to protect his identity. "I'm sorry, Quatre. I don't mean to cramp your social life. You can go out without me, you know."

The blond's eyes opened and he sat up enough to lean over Duo, a hand placed on either side of the other man's body. "Do you really think I miss going to dull parties with acquaintances and strangers vying to get close to me? I usually spend my evening trying to be polite while separating those individuals who look at me as a person with a promiscuous past, and a rich, sexual conquest to those who see me as a very large bank account on two legs?" There was pain and a touch of bitterness in the blue-green eyes that Duo had first glimpsed on the night they'd met at the Flaming Casbah and talked.

"Is that how it's been for you?" Duo asked, his hand coming to touch the fair cheek of the other man, now a bit scratchy from a day's worth of growth. When the blond nodded, Duo could see loneliness lurking in the blue eyes. He understood then just how alone his friend had been and why he was so interested in him. He'd never looked at Quatre Winner as the world did, though he'd have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to know he had more money than most governments on Earth. In his friend he'd always seen integrity, honesty, kindness and intelligence. He knew he could put his trust in the Arabian, that he'd always have his back. Yet Quatre was even more than that, so much more. He supposed the Integrated Quatre could still sense how he felt about him as a person. The former Sandrock pilot might not be able to remember his past, but Duo did, and if nothing else, he was as loyal as an old hound dog to his friends. "All I can say, Quat, is that they're all fools if that's how they see you. If anyone knew and understood you as I do, the Maguanacs would be hard pressed to keep them from forming a ten mile long queue to meet you."

A sad smile drifted across the handsome blond's face. "You're one of the few people who has ever seen me as something other than a Winner, someone who is the heir to billions and born into a life of business and duty."

"You and I know you're so much more, don't we? Who cares what others think as long as we both know your worth, and it has nothing to do with money." As he spoke, Duo returned to laying on his back and pulled his friend down to kiss him with a smoldering passion.

The kiss continued for a long while, but time held little importance for either of them at the moment. It ended slowly and reluctantly, with both men breathing deeply, and when they separated, the blond head came to rest against the smaller man's chest. "I could so easily fall in love with you," he whispered.

Those honest words, uttered so softly, would have meant the world to many a person, but to Duo it brought unwelcome sorrow. He combed his fingers through the other man's silky hair, fingering the curls at the nape of his neck. "We talked about this, Quat. I'm going to find Heero. Don't fall for me. It'll only hurt the both of us in the long run."

He felt his friend nod against his chest, but he also felt a warm moisture that he realized could only be the other man's tears spilling onto his new shirt. 'This was a mistake,' he thought to himself. But somehow he couldn't bring himself to regret it. Being with Quatre had healed something within him, and he knew his presence had gladdened his friend, had given him a reprieve from his otherwise pre-determined life as a Winner and all the obligations that went with it. He had to believe that they were both benefitting from their agreement, and he hoped that, in the long run, they would both look back on this time they spent together with fondness instead of bitter regret.

Continued soon


	16. Duplicity

**Integration**

**Part 15 - Duplicity**

Working alongside Quatre Winner proved to be a busy and fairly stressful occupation. After a pleasantly spent weekend, Duo went to the office with his blond lover bright an early on Monday morning, dressed in his smart new clothing and was promptly shown to the room that was to be his office and it just so happened to be attached to the young executive's much larger one. Next, he was introduced to Esther, Quatre's executive secretary, who organized the busy young man's schedule as well as processed the paper work that made information available to him at a moment's notice. It was explained to the new employee that he would be working closely with the fifty-something year old woman as well as with Quatre to see that the important member of the Winner organization kept to his daily schedule and appointments, arriving to functions and meetings before they started.

If Duo had visions of he and Quatre fooling around during company time, they were quickly squelched. With a sense that his feet hit the ground running as they began each day, he found the succeeding hours passed quickly in a flurry of phone calls to arrange and re-arrange schedules, set up meetings and deal with any public appearances. He accompanied the well-known executive to meetings with government officials, other businessmen, lawyers, bankers, charities and occasionally to the daily boardroom meetings of the Winner Corporation. As it happened, the two men managed to share only a few brief kisses when they were alone in Quatre's office and taking a breather from the whirlwind of activity that was the blond's business life.

During their first week of working together, they came to an agreement that they would strive to leave work at the same time each day as the other employees, and that all talk of work was to be left behind them at the office. When they returned to the apartment at the end of the business day, it was designated as their time to relax, unwind and enjoy each other's company.

Duo found himself impressed by how much stamina Quatre exhibited, especially since he found himself struggling to keep up with the blond's frantic pace at the office. He fell into an exhausted slumber each night that first week while Quatre assured him he would get used to it. All it took was receiving his first paycheck for Duo to realize his efforts were certainly being rewarded.

Still, it took a little over three weeks before he began to feel more comfortable about his position in the Winner Corporation. Duo tapped into the memories he had of Jason and used his experiences of working in a high-paced, stress-filled job to become as organized as his former persona had been.

With his days filled with schedules and meetings and his nights filled with championship and affection, two months had passed by before duo approached Quatre one evening, over a leisurely game of pool, asking if he'd learned anything about Heero and his situation on Earth.

The blond chalked the tip of his pool stick and avoided Duo's questioning gaze. "I'm having Rashid check into several private detective agencies. He's going to select the best and most reputable, one who will be discrete and maintain client confidentiality, ensuring that our identities are kept safe."

"How much longer do you think it will take?" Duo asked, watching the blond set up his shot.

"He should be contacting me soon, and I would imagine the complete investigation will take another month or more."

"The investigation is well underway, though, isn't it? I mean, it's been a couple of months already."

"I trust Rashid to do a thorough job," Quatre replied, took his shot and scratched. The action roused Duo's suspicion.

"Quatre, what aren't you telling me?"

The blond looked sheepish. "That I lust after you?" The corners of his mouth turned up playfully, showing he was teasing and avoiding the answer.

Duo folded his arms over his chest, looking impatient at the change in the other man's mood.

With a resigned sigh, Quatre lay his pool stick down on the corner of the table and moved around it to stand in front of the shorter man, looking at him guardedly. Taking Duo in his arms, he kissed his up-turned forehead. "Don't be angry with me, alright?" When there was no answer, he continued. "I didn't give Rashid instructions about the investigation until three weeks ago," he confessed, then rushed to add, "It's just that I don't want you to go. I'm selfish, I know, but what we have here is good, Duo. I just thought that if I delayed giving Rashid instructions that I'd have more time to change your mind, that you'd learn to love me and you'd stay."

The burden of being responsible for this situation, for Quatre's growing feelings for him, weighed heavily on Duo's heart. He leaned into the taller man, his friend and lover, and rested his head against the strong shoulder. "I'm sorry, Quat, but you know I have to go. I've loved Heero since I was fifteen and he's always been everything to me. We only agreed to the Integration because we were promised that we'd be together. Relena and Une broke that promise, but I won't break mine to Heero. Please tell me you understand. I never wanted to hurt you - and I do love you, but I'm in love with Heero. If you'd just let me bring my friend from Earth here, you'd remember your love for Trowa and we could go and find him and free him from the Integration also. Then you could be together."

Abruptly the arms around his body dropped and Quatre turned away from him, obviously upset by his firm decision regarding his former lover. "Quatre?" Duo called his name with growing trepidation in his voice.

"Why is it you're so determined that I get back with this... Trowa?" the blond asked angrily, not turning around to face the other man. "Is it so you won't feel guilty when you leave me for another? Well I like the way things are right now. I don't wish for anything more than for you to return my feelings."

Duo cautiously approached his friend and again wrapped his arms around him, pressing his face against the stiff back while holding Quatre from behind. His voice was soft as he answered the questions. "You and Trowa had a love that was enviable, Quat. When you looked at each other, it was as if the world disappeared from around you. Trowa's music, his flute, played in perfect harmony with your violin, and that's the way your relationship was, a perfect blend."

"Did you envy us?" Quatre asked, the muscles of his back relaxing slightly.

"Yes, at times. Heero was sometimes aloof and withdrawn because of his training, much like Trowa was at the beginning of the war. But you seemed to break through to him more quickly than I did with Heero. I definitely envied that, but it also gave me incentive to keep trying."

"Did Heero love you as much as you love him?" The question came with a hint of pain in the blond's voice.

"Yes, at least he said he did. And I believed him," was Duo's reply.

"I don't want to play anymore tonight," Quatre said abruptly, then loosened the arms wrapped around him and slipped away. "I'm going to bed. Lock up when you're finished."

Duo watched as he walked away, feeling lost as to what he could do to make the situation better. When no solution came to mind, he waited, giving the blond a half hour before he entered the dark bedroom. Taking off his clothes and folding them as neatly as he could in the dark, he set them on the bottom end of the bed and then climbed under the covers. He hesitated moving closer to his bedmate, not knowing if Quatre would welcome his touch or not. But the uneasy distance between them became too much for him to bear and he rolled over to press his body against the other man's side, wrapping his arm around him and laying his head on his shoulder. "Night, Quat," he whispered, and turned his lips to press the against the warm neck .

"Good night," Quatre answered, not pushing him away, and the silence in the room continued as the awkward evening ended unsatisfactorily for both men.

_Oooooooo_

The next morning began with the two of them rushing through their showers and dressing quickly as a result of having slept later than usual. They'd each lain awake until the early hours of the morning, their minds going over the evening's conversation. Few words passed between them as they dressed, ate a quick breakfast and then rushed to work.

Quatre had a board meeting scheduled for nine a.m., and it was supposed to take up most of the morning. He asked Duo to stay behind to make some necessary phone calls. After he left his office for the board room, Duo busied himself with the next week's schedule, making appointments and confirming others.

Around ten a.m., a brief knock at the door was heard a scant second before it opened. A large, dark man entered, and though Duo had never seen him before, he had no doubt he was one of the Maguanacs, devoted to the Winner family's service. The tall, powerfully built man walked with purpose towards his desk and held out a thick white envelope. Looking down at it, Duo saw it was unmarked other than his pseudo name, Grayson Williams, written in what appeared to be a flourishing, feminine script. Taking the proffered envelope, he opened the flap and scanned the contents. Inside he found an impressively thick stack of Universal credits.

"What's this?" he asked, looking up with curiosity to the tall frowning man.

"Severance pay," the man's voice was deep and the look on his face showed his disdain. "You're to collect your personal belongings and I'll escort you from the building."

"Severance." Duo frowned, confused. "Do I get a reason why I'm being fired?" Yet at the very moment he asked the question, he recalled his conversation with Quatre the night before and the awkward silence between them that morning. A wave of disappointment and hurt washed over him. He told himself that he shouldn't be surprised; after all, Quatre's actions to what he'd said last night clearly told him that things had changed between them as his resolve to return to Heero had been reaffirmed.

"I shouldn't have to tell you the reasons," the man said, folding his massive arms over his chest as a sign of his impatience.

Duo nodded, wishing he and Quatre could have had some final words before they parted. He was sorry for the hurt the other man was feeling, but his course had been set from the moment he'd gotten his memory back. He couldn't quit now just because he found comfort with his best friend. He found an empty box in his closet and collected a few of his personal things, mostly small ornamental gifts and playful trinkets for his desk from Quatre, then grabbed up his jacket and threw it in also. With the other man following, he led the way out of the office he'd become very comfortable with during the last two months. He paused at Quatre's secretary's desk. "Goodbye, Esther. It was nice working with you."

The middle-aged woman straightened up from her typing and Duo could read the surprise and confusion in her expression. But when her eyes rose to his formidable escort, she looked as if she understood exactly what was going on and gave him a sad smile. "It was nice to have worked with you also, Grayson. Take care of yourself."

After leaving the tall building with his box under his arm, Duo took his time getting back to the apartment, not knowing if his pass key would work any longer. He stopped at shops along the way, bought and ate a large pretzel slathered with mustard and a soda to wash it down. Then without meaning to, he found himself standing in front of the familiar apartment building. Runnar, the familiar doorman, gave him a concerned look and asked him if he was well. Duo assured him that he was then hurried to the elevator in order to avoid any further questions.

He entered the apartment and sighed as he gazed at the harem-like decor. "Well, at least I don't have to look at this any longer," he said to himself, hoping to make himself feel better about the latest development.

Resigned to the fact that he needed to move on once again, he ignored the red blinking light on the answering machine and went straight to the bedroom and set the box he'd been carrying most of the morning on the bed. Pulling out the duffle bag he'd brought with him to L-4, he began to put his clothing into it, taking only those items he deemed necessary. Quatre had been overly generous in the selection of his wardrobe, but somehow it didn't seem right to take what he'd been given by the man he'd ended up hurting.

As he pressed some of his underwear into the bag, he heard the sound of the front door opening and Quatre's frantic voice calling his name. The sound of running footsteps followed.

The blond looked flushed, his face anxious as he entered the bedroom. A look of relief entered his eyes as they lit on Duo. They then dropped to the bed and took in the packed duffle bag and a look of worry replaced the momentary expression of relief. "You didn't answer the phone," he said, breathlessly. "Esther said Meshak escorted you from your office. Where are you going?"

"Does it really matter?" Duo replied dispassionately with a shrug.

"Duo?" Quatre approached him looking uncertain.

"Don't worry, Quat. I can take a hint and know how to bow out gracefully. You've been great, really, and you can count on me to keep quiet about our fling."

Quatre's expression gave the appearance of having been sucker punched. "I don't understand, Duo. Is this about last night? I'm sorry if I was upset but that's no reason for you to leave."

Now Duo was the one confused. "What about my severance pay? I thought you wanted me out of here."

Duo suddenly found himself engulfed in a bear hug, held firmly against Quatre's chest as the blond spoke. "I don't know what you're talking about. I've already told you how much I want you in my life. I would never send you away willingly."

Pulling away from the arms reluctant to let him go, Duo turned to grab the thick envelop from off the bed where he'd tossed it when he'd first entered the room. He opened it and pulled out the large stack of credits. "The guy you were talking about, the Maguanac, gave this to me and told me it was my severance pay. I could only imagine it was because of last night."

A light of understanding sparked within the blue-green eyes, and then they narrowed dangerously. "I think I understand. Wait here. I'll get to the bottom of this."

Quatre moved to leave the room, pulling his cell phone off his belt, but before he crossed the doorway, he stopped abruptly and turned. "You'll be here when I get back, right?"

Duo sat down on the edge of the bed and folded his arms. "Yeah, I'll be here," he answered, then watched as the blond disappeared in a hurry.

The silence in the room stretched out. Duo checked his watch several times to see only five minutes had passed since Quatre left. He stood and began to pace, letting another five minutes pass by. He looked up when Quatre swept into the room, a pleasant smile on his face.

"Now that I've taken care of that piece of business, is there anything you'd like to do? Any place you want to go?"

Duo gave the taller blond a suspicious look. "What happened?" he asked.

Quatre moved to the bed and sat on the edge. Patting the place next to him, he signaled for Duo to join him. He held his silence until the brunet complied. "Meshak," he began, slipping his arm over Duo's shoulders and holding him close to his side, "is more than just a Maguanac, he's my sister, Rachel's, husband. She sits on the Board of Directors for the company and carries a lot of clout. She's the one who decided you should be terminated because your resume seemed suspicious. She had a background check done and there were some discrepancies in the references and school data. Big surprise that." His blue-green eyes danced with humor. The two of them had worked together to produce a resume that was based on the published facts of Quatre's Integration. They used the name Duo was already using, an actual name of a student from the falsified history of schools that Quatre was supposed to have attended on Earth during his teenage years. They'd tracked the original Grayson Williams to one other secondary school and then to Oxford University where he dropped out after his second year. His data looked really good on the submitted resume and would hold up to casual scrutiny unless someone looked more closely at it; obviously Quatre's sister had.

"I told Rachel that, regardless of her reasons for your dismissal, I want you to remain as my assistant, that you have been doing an exemplary job and that I find you irreplaceable."

"And?"

"She refused to budge, so I quit."

Duo's eyes widened. "Are you crazy? You can't quit your job because of this."

The blond shrugged, appearing unconcerned, his smile in place. "Oh, I'm not worried that it will be permanent. I give her a week at the most until I get the call of apology that I'll insist on in order for me to go back to my office."

Duo frowned, looking dubious. "Are you sure about this?"

The now unemployed executive smiled confidently and his hand rose to caress Duo's smooth-shaven cheek. "Positive. I've made myself pretty much indispensable to them."

A creeping smile grew on Duo's face. "You always were the strategist, Quat. Leave it to you to make them dependant on you. The business world is a different kind of battlefield to you, isn't it, you sly fox?"

Quatre's grin dimmed slightly and a hint of sadness entered his eyes as he studied the shorter man's face. "Unfortunately my plans don't always come to fruition."

He wasn't sure, but Duo guessed the blond was referring to him. Quatre's attachment to him was fairly obvious and it was probably the real reason why his sister had initiated the background check and then followed through in her attempt to dismiss him. He couldn't really blame her, though. He knew he could probably ask Quatre for anything and his lover, in his current besotted state, would happily give him whatever he wanted. Quatre was vulnerable when he was in love, and his sister seemed well aware of that fact. He would never take advantage of the wealthy man's feelings for him, he admired and respected Quatre more than that. He realized that if he took the time to analyze his own feelings the blond, he'd probably discover, without delving too deeply, that he felt more than mere friendship for him. That brief acknowledgment to himself brought with it a wave of guilt. He had every intention of leaving L-4 as soon as he had the information he needed and then he'd proceed to Earth. No matter how he felt about Quatre, it paled in comparison to his love and need for Heero.

Looking into the beautiful eyes the blond possessed, he could see a similar need reflected there, the one Quatre had for him as well as his understanding and sadness at the inevitable split between them. Leaning forward and tilting his head up, he gently put his lips to Quatre's. He couldn't give his friend, his temporary lover, his whole heart or a promise of a future together, but he could give him the here and now and maybe, in the years to come, their time together would be a pleasant memory for the both of them. He hoped they'd be able to look back one day and smile with no lingering regrets for the time they were now spening together.

Drawing his arms around the blond's neck, Duo tilted his head and deepened the kiss, and together the two men moved slowly to lay back onto the bed. They had nowhere else to go at the moment, no phones or demands, only each other and the present moment that would hopefully become a warm memory.

_Oooooooo_

Opening his eyes after having taken a brief nap they'd agreed to after an afternoon of slow, passionate lovemaking, Duo was greeted to the sight of the back of Quatre's head on the pillow next to his own.

His eyes gazed fondly on the flaxen hair that curled up slightly at his neck. He let his gaze drop to the bare, pale shoulders, sculpted to perfection by his daily swim routine. The pale skin covering the sleek muscles was smooth and unblemished and seemed to beg for a kiss. Duo inched closer, not able to resist, and pressed his lips against the upturned shoulder. The skin underneath his mouth twitched slightly and a soft, sleepy chuckle of amusement was Quatre's response.

Pressing his body up against the blond's back, Duo brushed the silky hair away from the nearest ear in order to give it a proper assault. But as he studied the targeted area, his eyes opened wide with disbelief and he stopped all movement, feeling as if his blood had turned to ice. He blinked, then reached up and grabbed hold of the other man's earlobe and pulled it forward in order to study the area he was fixated on. His reaction was immediate as he roughly shoved the blond away.

Quatre squawked at the sudden action and resulting pain to his ear. He turned his head, wondering at his lover's unusual actions to see that Duo was retreating to the far side of the bed. Turning over completely, he observed the other man's angry countenance. "What was that for?" he asked, confused.

Duo gave him a heated glare, then scrambled out of bed and began to gather his clothes that had been carelessly scattered as they'd been discarded earlier without any thought. "You _lied_ to me," he said, his voice tense as he passed through gritted while pulling on his boxers.

"How so?" Quatre sat up, alarmed at Duo's actions.

"You weren't Integrated. You never underwent the procedure, did you?" Duo said, pulling his t-shirt over his head with jerking movements. "I can't believe you lied to me this whole time." His voice was muffled by the fabric momentarily covering his face.

"What makes you think that?" A look of worry clouded the blond's face.

"The lack of a mark behind your ear, the Sanq flag, to be specific," Duo snapped back after his head made it through the neck of the tee-shirt. "A sure sign that you've had the procedure done."

"Duo, please, listen to me," the blond pleaded as he scrambled off the bed and moved quickly around the foot of it to the other side, completely ignoring his naked state. Duo had pulled his pants on and was reaching for his shirt as Quatre reached him and grabbed hold of his hands. "Let me explain, please." The brunet looked up with sparks of anger shooting within his eyes as he tried to wrench his hands away, but Quatre's grasp held firm.

"I've been here how long?" Duo asked in a strained voice that grew louder as he continued, answering his own question. "A little over nine or ten weeks? We've had sex, shared the same bed, bath and meals together and it never dawned on you that I'd figure it out at some point?"

"I couldn't tell you, Duo," Quatre said, desperate for the other man to understand his deception. "You don't know how much I wanted to, how much I ached to tell you that I remember you and Heero, Wufei and Trowa, but it was part of the agreement. I gave an oath and signed a contract that I would never reveal my past, that I would feign ignorance if I was challenged."

The amethyst eyes were blazing at this point. "Did you bribe those damn doctors into falsifying the documents of your Integration, like that bitch Relena?" he spat out loud and angrily at the man no less than a foot away from him. "Did I just live the last three years of my life in hell because I simply didn't have any money to bribe them with? Was my life, my happiness, sacrificed because I lacked family and money?"

"Calm down, Duo," Quatre urged him, keeping his voice down while holding the two hands tightly to keep his lover from running out of his life. "Think about it. Do you really believe that my sisters would have tolerated the only male member of the family to have his life erased? I'm the one that's supposed to carry on the Winner name to the next generation. As my father's only son, I'm set to inherit the most prominent position on the Winner Board of Directors, not to mention a good part of the family's fortune and stock. With all of that responsibility falling to me, can you really believe that my sisters were going to let me go that easily?"

Duo calmed slightly, but the dark expression on his face remained.

"I did undergo a partial procedure," Quatre continued. "They took away the memory of my father and sister's death as well as my unfortunate experience in Wing Zero when I destroyed a colony and threatened another. I've read the news reports and I know what I've done. As I told you before, it's easier to live with the facts when the memory is gone. I didn't lie when I said I don't want my memories back and I like sleeping without nightmares."

"But you remember everything else, right?" Duo shouted, it was more of a challenge than a question. "Damn it all, Quatre, you remember Trowa! How can you remember him and not go to him? You loved each other so much. I just don't understand how you could forget about him."

"You're right, Duo." The blond finally let go of the other man's hands to run one of them through his sleep-mussed hair. "I do remember Trowa and I do love him. We loved each other deeply, for a time. But I'm not in love with him any longer."

Torn between being angry and feeling betrayed, Duo looked pleadingly to his friend. "I don't understand, Quat. Help me understand this so that I don't end up hating you."

"Here," Quatre took up the other's hand again, this time he gently led Duo to sit on the bed. "Sit here and I'll tell you. Just let me throw something on."

Duo complied, sitting on the edge of the comfortable mattress and watched as Quatre went to the closet and pulled out the familiar white robe and put it on. He forced himself to stay seated until the blond approached him again, his forehead wrinkled with lines of worry.

Sighing deeply at facing the daunting task ahead of him, Quatre sat close to his lover's side and closed his eyes for a moment in order to compose himself. "After the first war, Trowa came here to live with me to see if our relationship could survive during a time of peace that we'd never known together," he began, his voice soft and sad. "My family was shocked, to say the least, and barely tolerated us at first, our relationship was a offensive and disgraceful to them, and it was more than obvious that I'd disappointed them with my choice for a mate."

Though his eyes were focused on a spot in the distance, Duo could see pain reflected in Quatre's eyes as he recalled the memory, showing how much his sisters' disapproval had hurt him. "They tried to be somewhat discrete about their disapproval because they didn't want to alienate me completely, and as time went by, they became more polite, but pretty much kept their distance emotionally and physically." He paused for a moment and a small, sad smile came to his lips.

"At first, it was good between Trowa and I, despite my family's initial reaction. But after a while I sensed Trowa's growing restlessness. Having grown up with a mercenary group, he wasn't used to staying in one place for very long and he'd certainly never put down any roots. He said he had vagabond blood in his veins." Quatre paused a moment and sighed wearily. "In time, he came to hate it here and began to resent me for keeping him away from the life he longed for with the circus." Sad eyes transmitted the hurt the blond felt at his lover's rejection. "I did love him, Duo, have no doubt about that. But Trowa felt stifled here, like one of the caged circus cats unable to perform, so I felt I had no choice but to let him go. It was an amicable split, but after he left me I found a gaping hole in my life. It hurt and I missed him terribly.

"We were brought together again during the coup attempt by Deikum Barton, and then were forced to live together when we were put under house arrest at the Sanq palace. Feeling uncertain because we didn't know what the future had in store for us or if we even had a future at all, we both sought comfort from each other by returning to the familiar, comfortable relationship we once had. That was the reason why you and the others believed we were still together. For those few, brief months we recaptured what we'd once had because there was nowhere to go, no one and nothing to divided us, and we couldn't seem to get enough of each other.

"Then the plan for Integration was introduced by Relena. I spoke privately with Trowa, having learned of my sisters' plans to have only a part of my memories removed. I thought that with the impending Integration he could also have a partial procedure, removing his past as a mercenary, which I believed caused his wanderlust, and he would be content to spend the rest of his life with me on L-4."

Quatre stopped speaking for a moment, his eyes misting over as he fought for composure. Duo could see he was obviously still very much hurt by what had happened years ago. In a tight voice, Quatre continued. "He said he loved me, but that he loved Catherine and his life at the circus, too. He believed that she needed him more as a brother than I did and that she'd already agreed to act as his sister and the overseer that the government required as part of the procedure. He asked me to let him go," his voice came out small and choking. "And I loved him enough to do as he asked."

A tear fell from the sorrowful eyes and Duo moved to brush it off with his thumb as he struggled for something comforting to say.

A watery smile came to the blond's otherwise sad face. "He's happy, you know. I've checked on him several times and have even begun to form an acquaintance with him as the bright circus star he's become. Would you like to go and see him? I believe the circus is on L-1 this month."

Duo nodded, all the anger he'd previous felt towards the other man dissipated while hearing Quatre's story and seeing his very real sorrow. "I'd like to see for myself that he's happy," he answered, taking the blond's cool hand into his own. "Is there really no chance for you to have him in your life again, as your lover?"

Quatre shook his head. "No chance at all. At first I was angry and bitter, the void I told you about while I was in London was caused by Trowa's decision, and I also struggled with my feelings of having betrayed you, Heero and Wufei when my sisters arranged for me not to be Integrated. Over time and after I made a lot of mistakes, I eventually accepted his leaving me and overcame my guilt about having cheated my way out of being Integrated, and I've successfully done as Trowa asked; I truly let him go - to live his life as he chose. I'll always love him as my friend and as my first lover, but our relationship is just a memory now, and that's all it can ever be."

Duo released the hand he held and embraced the sad man before him. "He was the person you spoke of before, isn't he? The other person you asked to live with you who chose his profession over your love?" He felt the nod of the blond man's head. "I'm sorry," he added, pressing his lips against the skin of Quatre's neck as he held tightly to him.

"I swear, Duo, if I'd known what had happened to you and Heero, I would have done everything in my power to stop it or to at least right the wrong done to you. I saw pictures of Relena with Heero and knew they'd gotten married, but I couldn't dig up any information on you. I'd kept myself apart from you guys during the initial process of the Integration so you wouldn't ask me too many questions. Because of that, I didn't know the details of your Integration, so I could only guess you didn't make it as a couple in your new life. The worse case scenario I came up with was that you might have died. I could only hope that wasn't true. Then, when I first saw you outside the office building, I didn't know if it was really you or a ghost I was looking at."

Duo nodded, seeing how Quatre could have come to the conclusions that he had. "At least you can console yourself that you and Trowa had closure. I don't have that with Heero. The last time I saw him he said he loved me and wanted to be with me. They forced us apart and re-Integrated him with what appears to be implanted beliefs about himself and Relena being a couple. Our future was supposed to be our choice, and I guess I could live with our separation better if he'd had the free will to choose her over me. But with the altered Integration, there was no choice." His voice and face hardened suddenly. "And then they put me under the control of a sadistic deviate."

Quatre pulled back to look into the other man's face. "I'm not without some influence, Duo. I think Relena and Une should pay for what they've done to you. It was wrong and criminal."

The brunet shook his head. "How can you punish them, Quat, when you and your family are guilty of the same crime of altering the Integration? The government officials believe you underwent the procedure. If you accused Relena of altering the Integration, what's to stop her from turning the tables, digging up the doctors your sisters bribed and having all of us brought in to have it re-done? Can you imagine the backlash on your family for bribing a government official? What would that do to your business and the thousands of people it employs? People don't take very well to the wealthy blatantly breaking the laws just because they can bribe their way out of it."

"I know," the blond replied with a look of resignation on his face. "But I would do it if you asked it of me."

Duo's heart and head ached, seeing how great Quatre's love for him was and for the hurt he was causing him. Leaning forward, he kissed each of the other man's cheeks and then left a quick one on his lips. "I would never ask that or anything else of you that would cause you harm," he said.

The two young men gazed at each other for several moments of time before Quatre spoke again. "I talked to Rashid this morning, before the board meeting. He said he'd have a partial if not final report prepared and on my desk next week. He's researched and gathered information on Heero, or rather Kai's daily schedule, where he and Relena live and every place and person he's met in the last month. He's even doing a background check on Wufei's new identity as Chen Wong."

Even though the idea of receiving the information he'd long for excited him, Duo was well aware of how much it was costing his lover by way of his heart. "Then we have a week," he said, trying to make it sound as if it was a good thing. "And what a coincidence that you and I have the week off from work." He gave his friend the best smile he could manage at the moment, earning a shaky one in return.

"I suppose we should make the most of it," Quatre replied, his own responding smile looking forced. "Like I asked before, is there anything in particular that you'd like to do?"

"You mean other than spending the entire time in bed?" Duo asked, a mischievous smile coming to light.

A blond eyebrow rose along with the twitching corners of his lips. "Though that thought has its own appeal, we're going to need to be able to walk straight when we leave here in a week," he joked. Positioning himself so that his arm could drape over Duo's shoulders, he continued. "I have a few ideas. Let's go for a quick swim, take a shower, pack a bag for a couple of days and get the hell out of here."

Duo's question about where they were going was cut off as the other man's lips effectively silenced him. Then pulling back slightly, Quatre said, "First, I'll arrange for a private shuttle so we go see Trowa. Would you like that?"

"Yeah, I would," Duo answered. Quatre then stood, extended his hand in an invitation for Duo to join him. Hand in hand the two young men who had reconciled their earlier anger, left the room together to carry out their newly-formed plans for the afternoon.

**Continued soon**

note The cast is off happy, happy, joy, joy but my poor fingers are stiff and sore. The doctor said it will be 6 months to a year before its better, if you can believe that. He also said typing can be a form of physical therapy. Hopefully my fingers can keep up with my imagination.


	17. Meeting Triton Bloom

**Integration**

**Part 16 - Meeting Triton Bloom**

They arrived on Colony L-1 around noon the following day, having flown the shuttle themselves and leaving Quatre's unhappy bodyguards behind. Leaving the Winner private shuttle docked safely at one of the more exclusive ports, the two young men ventured out of the terminal and into the colony's central city. They were both dressed casually in jeans with Duo wearing a tee-shirt and Quatre a white oxford shirt, the sleeves rolled up. The popular heir wore one of Duo's caps on his head to keep from being too easily recognized.

L-1 was one of the older colonies, but it was easy to see from the clean streets and outward appearances that unlike L-2, its sister colony, it had been properly maintained and kept from going in decline. The central city was composed of tall gleaming skyscrapers. Its busy sidewalks were teeming with people scurrying along from one destination to another while cars, trucks, mopeds and bicycles filled the downtown streets where the colony's main businesses and government offices were situated.

Quatre explained to his companion, even though he'd been to L-1 before, that the colony was first inhabited by citizens who'd emigrated from Japan, eager to escape the crowding and for new job opportunities. The culture that had existed in Tokyo at the time of the emigration to space had been slowly diluted by generations of colonists, just as L-4's had been from the middle-eastern influence that first prevailed at its inception. The first citizens of L-1 were pre-selected, industrious people who established a government based on democratic standards and set up the official offices in the colony's center city. The early colonists dubbed their capital as New Tokyo, in remembrance of the home they'd left behind for the adventure of a life time.

The two men caught a taxi just outside the shuttle's terminal and, with information Quatre had gathered from the Internet before leaving L-4, they were driven to the city's outskirts to where Trowa's circus was set up.

"So you've seen and talked to him?" Duo asked, turning in his seat in the back of the taxi to look at his companion.

Quatre nodded. "I visited the circus several times during the first year after I returned to the colonies. I just needed to see for myself that Trowa was happy. I

was recognized almost immediately when I went back stage to give my compliments to the troop of performers." The blond then chuckled. "You should have seen Catherine's face when her eyes lit on me. I'm sure if she'd had her knives handy I would have had one planted between my eyes. She's still fiercely protective of her 'brother'. I simply introduced myself to Trowa as if we were strangers and told him I appreciated the show. We developed a tentative friendship, but that's all. I haven't been to see him in the last six months."

Duo reached over and took the blond man's hands in his own. "I'm sorry, Quat. It has to be hard to see him happy without you."

The blond gave him a weak smile. "At least he's safe and happy with his new life. I have to content myself with that."

Silence filled the cab as the driver continued to maneuver the car through the busy city traffic until they reached the outskirts of the metropolitan area where the bright red and white striped tents of the circus came more clearly into view on the up-curve arch of the colony.

When the taxi slowed to a stop, just outside the main entrance, both young men leaned down to take a good look out of the window at the massive tent that would later hold hundreds of spectators as well as circus performers and animals. Quatre opened the door and got out with Duo following quickly behind. He paid the driver through his window, then motioned for his companion to follow.

"Let's see what time the show begins today," the blond said, nodding toward the arch of balloons that served as a gateway to the circus. The two walked together towards the red and white polka dotted ticket booth, just far enough apart to not draw attention to their true relationship with each other, just in case someone spotted Quatre and took a picture.

The neatly dressed, slightly pudgy woman with fading red, curly hair glanced up from her paperback romance novel with a bored expression on her face. It remained that way for only the moment it took for her to recognize the blond man smiling at her in a charming manner.

"Mr. Winner!" She exclaimed happily. "We haven't seen you for a while. We thought that you'd out-grown us."

"Not at all," Quatre assured her easily, his smile warm and his manner friendly. "I've just been very busy with work. But I thought I'd take a break as I have a guest visiting me and I thought he'd like to see the circus."

The woman's eyes moved to where Duo stood, and after giving him the once over, she offered him a toothy, way-too-big grin. "A friend of Mr. Quatre Winner is always a friend to the Romlin Family Circus," the woman boldly declared with a showbiz flourish, grinning like a loon at both amused men.

"We'd like two front and center seats if they're available, please," Quatre asked, unable to suppress a chuckle at the woman's antics while taking out his wallet and his debit card.

The woman turned to her computer and typed in a few commands, then studied the screen. "It looks like we have such a seating available for the three o'clock performance. Is that alright?"

Quatre put his card on the wooden counter. "We'll take it," he stated, and after the transaction was completed, the blond tucked the two tickets and his card back into his wallet, then turned back to his friend. "Want some lunch?" he asked, looking at his watch. "We have a little more than an hour and a half until show time."

"Can we take a look around the circus?" Duo asked, his eyes taking in as much as they could.

"I'm afraid that's not possible," the older woman said. "The animals and performers are preparing for the first show."

Quatre gave the woman an understanding smile. "That's alright. We'll be back for the show."

Taking Duo's elbow, he led him back to the street where the taxi had dropped them off. "They're not as open and trusting as they used to be during the war," the blond explained, nodding at the fence surrounding the circus. "After the Integration, when Cathy was given the responsibility of Trowa who, by the way, is now called Triton Bloom, her brother, she was cautioned about protecting him from strangers who might recognize him from the war. That's kind of hard to do in a traveling circus environment. After speaking to the circus manager and owner, the workers drew in their protective ranks and decided to close off the circus grounds until just before the performance. Circus workers are well-known for being fiercely protective of each other," he added. "Trowa had been kept safe and well by all of them."

Duo nodded, indicating that he was listening to Quatre speak about his former lover's life, but his mind had suddenly shifted to another train of thought. He concentrated for a moment, trying to figure out the stab of jealousy that shot through him while hearing of Trowa's current situation. His former friend, in his Integrated state, was being well taken care of and protected as part of a group that was very much like a family. It wasn't as if he'd ever wish for any harm to befall Trowa or the others, but he couldn't help feeling somewhat resentful at the situation he'd found himself in as a result of his second Integration. How was it that he seemed to be the only one who landed in an adverse situation? He knew the answer to that question even before the question came to him; it was simply because he'd loved the person Relena Peacecraft had wanted for herself.

His longing for Heero came back suddenly, hitting him hard, and as always, it was accompanied by his feelings of anger directed toward Relena, Une and the injustice of the whole episode that had just about destroyed him. It wasn't a hunger for food that coiled angrily in his belly at the moment, but a thirst for revenge. Even as his steps became stiff and his blood seemed to boil in his veins, his mind told him that such feelings were out of place, considering where he was at the moment and that Quatre was chatting happily alongside him as he was pulled down the street by the arm the blond had flung casually over his shoulders. With some effort and a fixed determination, he set aside his growing anger and depressed mood, putting them to the back of his mind to deal with later, after he'd seen Trowa. He managed to get his head together just in time as Quatre spied an eatery up ahead that was boldly named in blue print The Sushi Hut.

_Oooooooo_

At two-forty five they found themselves being directed by a circus employee, dressed as a clown, to seats situated in the front and center of the middle performance ring under the canvas of the large, striped tent. Quatre bought himself a large box of popcorn, a drink and cotton candy for Duo. They munched on their treats while the tent quickly filled with an eager audience, already half filled with noisy children. They contented themselves with people watching and Quatre commented on the fact that most of the audience seemed to be of Asian descent, typical of the L-1 population.

Soon the stands were filled and the overhead lights dimmed. "Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, welcome to the Romlin Family Circus," a deep theatrical voice boomed over the public address system. "Sit back and prepare yourselves for an afternoon of fun, daring, excitement and thrills. Put your hands together in welcome to the Romlin Circus parade of stars."

Both young men joined the audience in watching as circus performers, clowns and animals, ranging from an elephant, horses, miniature ponies, as well as caged tigers, lions and monkeys, all paraded around the circumference of the three rings. Once the entire troupe made the completed the circuit, the show began.

Trowa had been easy to spot amidst the crowd of colorful characters. His auburn hair, longer now and pulled back into the same ponytail most of the other high-wire and trapeze performers favored, exposed his handsome face that his former uni-bang hair style had hidden. His wonderfully sculpted body, clothed in a tight leotard, showed a powerful physique. Duo felt himself drawn to the other man's handsomeness, and looked aside to his blond companion to gage his reaction. His heart ached for Quatre after seeing the look of sad, wistful longing on his face as he stared intently at his former lover, now completely unaware of their once loving relationship. Reaching over, he took hold of his friend's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, gaining the other man's attention. The blond slowly turned his head to give him a slight smile of appreciation for his concern, then turned back to watch the show.

The stunts and feats of agility and daring that were performed were stunning. Duo was amazed at the bravery of the airborne performers and at how their former friend performed to perfection, eliciting gasps and enthusiastic applause from the enthralled audience. It wasn't really any surprise that Trowa still posed as a target for Katherine's knife throwing act and together the brother and sister handled the large cats while clowns entertained the audience with their antics in the two side rings.

The show lasted an hour and twenty minutes and the crowd rose to its feet with wild applause, showing enthusiastic gratitude for the talented performers.

As the lights in the big tent brightened, signaling an end to the show, Quatre took Duo's elbow and led him towards the opening where the performers had disappeared through moments earlier. One of the circus performers, a large bald man greeted them. Duo recognized him as the person who had performed a number of tricks on an assortment of bicycles and by his ridiculously long, black handlebar mustache.

"Mr. Winner. It's good to see you again. Can I help you?" the muscle-bulging man asked with a pleasant smile and deep voice.

"I'd like to pay my compliments to Triton, if that would be alright," Quatre politely requested. "And I brought a friend with me who I'd like to introduce to him."

"If you'll wait here, I'll see if that's a possibility." The large man turned and quickly departed behind another tent flap.

The two young men stood shoulder to shoulder, quietly commenting back and forth on the show they'd just seen. Duo felt a bit nervous about coming face to face with Trowa and not giving anything away that they'd met before, but Quatre's hand on the middle of his back and one of his fingers slipping teasingly under the waistband of his pants distracted him from any such worry. He looked up into the handsome face to see Quatre's teasing smile, which he returned.

"Mr. Winner!" Both men jumped a bit, startled at the suddenness and sharp tone of a woman's voice. They turned to see the familiar face of Catherine Bloom as she stepped under the flap.

"Hello, Catherine. How are you?" Quatre asked after taking off his cap and tucking it under his left arm, then offered his right hand to the unaffected woman. She hesitated a moment with a worried look in her eyes, then placed her hand in his and gave it a brief shake before hastily removing it from his clasp.

"What brings you here today?" she asked, looking wary.

"I have a friend visiting me and I thought he might enjoy the circus. After such a wonderful show, I said I'd try to introduce him to you and Triton, if you don't mind."

Catherine's eyes turned to Duo and a slow smile replaced her previous look of worry. With his hair still the auburn color he'd adopted on L-4, it was no wonder her eyes widened. "Why he looks just like..."

"Triton," Quatre cut in, hoping she didn't recognize Duo from the war. "Isn't it uncanny? I told my friend that he resembled someone I knew and had to bring him here to prove it."

It was obvious to both men that the cog and wheels were turning in the red-haired woman's mind. Believing Quatre to be Integrated like Triton, she was probably coming to the conclusion that he'd subconsciously chosen a companion that looked like his former friend and lover, somehow emotionally replacing what he'd lost without realizing it.

The young woman smiled at Duo and held out her hand to him. "Catherine Bloom," she said, introducing herself.

"Grayson Williams," Duo replied, returning the friendly gesture. "It's nice to meet you, Ms. Bloom. The show was spectacular and the knife throwing was amazing."

The conversation was interrupted when the curtain behind Catherine parted and several people came through as a group. Trowa stood out amongst his peers with his height and as a leader. "Mr. Winner! How good it is to see you again."

Duo was immediately struck by the change in his former comrade. Never before had he seen Trowa so open and friendly. His beautiful green eyes were fully exposed and sparkling with genuine delight at seeing Quatre, and his smile was large and friendly. There was no reserve about the man who once epitomized self containment, had been a regular recluse, emotionally and verbally stifled. He watched dumbstruck as Quatre returned the warm smile and held his hand out once more.

"It's good to see you again, Triton." He gave the man a chiding look. "I thought we'd gotten over this 'Mr. Winner' formality the last time I came for a visit."

To Duo's amazement, Trowa threw his head back and laughed even as the two men shook hands. "Well, I didn't want to be presumptuous, Quatre," he replied, accentuating the blond's name.

"Much better," Quatre said, beaming, then turned to Duo. "Let me introduce you to my friend, Grayson Williams. Gray, this is the amazingly talented Triton Bloom."

Graciously, Trowa extended his hand and smile to Duo. "He looks like you did when you were a teenager, Triton," Cathy said, standing at his right side.

Trowa's green eyes raked over the smaller man. "Yes, I think he does. Nice to meet you, Grayson."

"The pleasure is mine," Duo managed to say, feeling a bit odd in his head with the whole situation.

Quatre seemed to sense this and turned to Trowa. "What's new and exciting in the life of the circus star?" he asked.

"We have the best news of all," Trowa said, smiling broadly. He turned around and motioned for someone behind him to come forward. A young woman with a slender build and blonde hair that fell thick and straight to a point just below her shoulders, stepped forward. She was dressed in jeans and a peasant style, white blouse that had embroidered flowers around the neck and billowy sleeves. "You remember Katiana?" Trowa asked. "She's the manager's daughter and makes our costumes for us."

Duo's eyes went wide, then shifted from one blond to the other, not knowing what to think. Trowa was introducing them to a female version of Quatre.

"Of course," Quatre smiled pleasantly and offered his hand to the young woman smiling in a shy manner at him. "How are you, Miss Katiana? It's certainly a pleasure to see you again." Quatre's manner appeared genuine, and Duo continued to be amazed by his calm and charm in this unusual situation.

Trowa studied the pretty blonde woman now standing at his side, and gently pulled her into a position in front of him. His arms then wrapped around her and his hands came to rest over her waist. "We were married last month," the tall auburn-haired man announced with a pleased grin.

"That's wonderful news!" Quatre exclaimed, and Duo thought his enthusiasm seemed a bit forced. "Congratulations to the both of you. I wish I'd known. I'd have sent a gift to celebrate your union," he added politely.

Duo stood by, observing the two men as they spoke as well as the people around them. Quatre and Triton seemed to get on well with each other, and the rest of the circus troupe obviously held Trowa in the highest esteem and Quatre with respectful awe. After several minutes of generally polite conversation passing between them, Quatre glanced down at his watch.

"I'm afraid I need to hurry along. We have a shuttle waiting for us. Where will the circus be going next?"

"Earth," Catherine answered, a glint of pride in her eyes. "We'll be taking a two-year tour planet side. Maybe, if you happen to be on Earth during that time and can get away, you could come visit us sometime," she informed them, though the look on her face told both Duo and Quatre that it was only a polite offer on her part, that she really didn't desire his attendance. There was something in her eyes when she looked at Quatre that left Duo wondering why she didn't care for him, and wondered if it was because of what happened during the war, when Trowa had been injured and suffered amnesia after being attacked by the blond under the influence of the Zero program. Whatever her reasoning, it was pretty clear to him that she wasn't going to let anything other than a long-distance friendship occur between the famous blond billionaire and her brother. Duo thought she was being foolish. She obviously didn't have to worry about the two men sharing anything other than friendship now that Trowa had taken a wife.

"That would be nice," Quatre answered her. "But my family's business is in space. I don't plan on visiting earth any time soon."

"What a pity," Catherine replied. Again, the sentiment expressed in words did not match the pleased look in her eyes.

Quatre turned to Trowa then. "I suppose I won't see you then for two years. So until that time, I wish you all the best. May good fortune be your traveling companion."

"Thank you, Quatre," Trowa replied. "And may you be well until our paths bring us together again as friends."

Quatre smiled, then reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. Taking out his business card, he gave it to his former lover. "Let me know of an address where I can reach you on Earth. I'd like to send a belated wedding gift."

"You're too kind," Trowa said, his eyes moving from Quatre to his wife, who positively glowed at the promise of a grand gift from their generous friend and, from time-to-time, benefactor.

"Thank you, Mr. Winner," the young woman blushed and quickly stepped forward to place a brief kiss on his cheek, then stepped back into the comfort of Trowa's arms.

Quatre gave Trowa's new wife a soft smile, then looked to all those around them. "Be well, all of you." Replacing the cap on his head, he turned and quickly left the tent, momentarily leaving Duo behind to say his farewell.

"It was nice to meet you," Duo said, but as he moved to turn and follow the hastily retreating blond, he was stopped short by a restraining hand on his arm. He looked up questioningly into Trowa's face.

"You're his friend?" the taller man asked in the quiet voice Duo had always found soothing.

"Yes."

"Is he alright?" Trowa's hand released his arm as his eyes moved to the tent flap where Quatre had disappeared a moment earlier.

"Why do you ask?" Duo's curiosity was getting the best of him. He could see true concern on the taller man's face.

Trowa was still dressed in his costume of green leotard that showed his muscular build to perfection. "I'll admit that I don't know him very well, but he's always been very good to us, helping the circus if there's been any need. He seems to be a very good and kind person, but there's an air of sadness about him. I suppose I'd just like to see him as happy as he makes other people."

Duo smiled, there was still something of the Trowa he used to know within Triton, even after the Integration. Somehow, he still cared for Quatre and looked to his happiness. "I think he's fond of you and your circus family," he replied. "Maybe he's just sad you're going to Earth for so long. You should drop him a line once in a while. Just tell him how the circus is going and the places you're visiting. I think he'd really like that."

Trowa nodded, his facial expression was serious. His green eyes then studied Duo's. "Are you a good friend to him?" Though the words were spoken easily, there was a probing quality to the gaze that studied the smaller man. Duo had to wonder exactly what Trowa was asking.

"I'd like to think so," he replied. "He's certainly been a good friend to me."

The two men stood for a moment, measuring each other. Duo suddenly felt a profound sadness that the man before him wasn't really his tall, quiet friend with the dry sense of humor that he'd come to appreciate during the war. Like Quatre, he was relieved to see Trowa was happy and content with his life, but there was a part of him that was just beginning to grieve for the loss of Trowa Barton, his friend, forever lost to the both of them now. If he was experiencing such a sense of loss, he could only imagine what Quatre had felt in losing his soul mate.

"Don't hurt him." Trowa's sudden words startled him from his thoughts.

"Excuse me?"

The taller man's face softened slightly. "It's obvious he cares for you. Try not to hurt him."

Duo nodded. "Good bye, Tr...Triton." He caught himself before he made the mistake of calling his friend by the name he'd known him by. He extended his hand to the other man, who grasped his hand firmly as they shook hands briefly. "It was nice to meet you."

"Take care," the circus performer answered, and Duo could feel the other man's eyes on his back as he turned to leave and find Quatre.

He found his friend just outside the circus entrance, waiting patiently next to a taxi cab that was parked at the curbside with its engine running. Quatre opened the back door to the car as he approached and without a word spoken, the two situated themselves behind the driver.

"Shuttle Terminal thirteen, please," Quatre told the driver, then settled back into the worn leather seat as the taxi pulled away from the circus.

Duo looked at his friend and lover with concern. Quatre wouldn't meet his gaze and he bore a look of detachment as he fixed his eyes on the buildings that were blurred as the taxi sped along the streets of L-1. Trowa had been right, Duo realized, there was a sense of sadness that lingered with the blond despite his sunny appearance. He supposed that it had been there the whole time he'd lived with Quatre, but that he just hadn't recognized it for what it was.

Unable to think of what to say, Duo did the only thing he could. Moving closer to the taller man, he breathed in the wonderful scent he'd come to associate with the blond as he put his arms around him. He turned himself around so that the embrace became a full one, his chest against Quatre's as he rested his head on his shoulder, his arms encircling his neck. He didn't worry about the fact that he was practically sitting on Quatre's lap in the back of a car where anyone could see them. At the moment, all he cared about was the sad man in his arms.

Quatre responded immediately and Duo felt the strong swimmer's arms rise to wrap around his smaller body to pull him even closer. The hold they shared turned quickly from one of comfort to one of desperation.

"I'm sorry," Duo whispered, fighting back the emotions that came with his new understanding of Quatre's heartache. He'd learned just the day before of Quatre's sacrifice, but he didn't fully understand the cost until now. Not only had Quatre retained his memories of who he was, minus only a few painful details of the war, but he also experienced great loss of not only losing Trowa, but all of his comrades as well. He'd watched at a distance as his former lover made a new life without him, found a wife and would probably one day have a family. Duo knew full well the pain and loneliness that the Integration had brought to him, but after this visit with Trowa, he finally realized that Quatre, with all of his family influence and money, had also suffered.

The two sat entwined, silently comforting each other and oblivious to their surroundings or the taxi driver clearing his throat several times to state his not-so-subtle disapproval. No words passed between them even when the driver barked out the announcement that they had arrived at their destination. They untangled their hold on each other and stepped out of the cab and Quatre settled the fare. Walking side by side, the two men appeared calm and relaxed as they returned to the docked shuttle.

Duo secured the hatch behind them, then joined Quatre back in the shuttle's lounge. The blond sat on the sofa, his head bowed as his eyes fixed on his hands, folded in his lap. Duo stood in front of him, and when Quatre didn't acknowledge his presence, he bent and picked up the folded hand, then situated himself on the taller man's lap. He raised their joined hands and pressed the other's knuckles to his lips and kissed them before setting them down again. Moving slowly, he caressed the pale cheeks before him and placed gentle, loving kisses there. Though Quatre's thoughts had been elsewhere, his attention soon returned to his companion, doing his best to awaken the desire that rose so easily between them. As pale blue eyes met those of a darker shade, an understanding passed between. It was an unspoken need to hold onto what they had, whether as friends or lovers, they were there for each other, the only two people who really understood the pain and the sorrow they'd been through. Quatre hands rose to cup his lover's head and bought his mouth to his own, initiating a kiss that expressed all they needed to communicate to each other in that moment.

_Oooooooo_

Duo pulled away from the satisfying kiss when his hands were stopped from trying to unbutton the other man's shirt. "What?" he asked, surprised at Quatre stopping him. He paused to study the flaxen-haired man's face, noting the confused look in his eyes. "Something wrong?"

"No," Quatre sighed and let go of his hands. "I just had a funny, odd memory come to mind." Duo raised one eyebrow and waited for the blond man to continue, which he did. "Trowa once told me of a conversation he'd had with Heero about a heated disagreement the two of you had at one of the safe houses. Heero complained that you always thought having sex would magically make everything better, that in some way you believed that pain, hurt, hunger or rage would sprout wings and fly away if you were good enough in bed. He told Trowa that the two of you had argued about something that had happened on a mission, that accusations and hurtful words were said. After collecting yourselves, he said you wanted to make up and began to initiate sex, believing that's what it would take to make everything better between the two of you. He told Trowa he didn't feel the same way, and when he didn't accept your overtures, it led to the argument we'd overheard." Quatre looked into his lover's eyes. "Is that what you're trying to do now, Duo? Have sex with me just so I'll feel better?"

Duo sat back and combed his fingers through his growing hair, not sure how to feel about Heero's comments and Quatre's question. "I suppose maybe I am," he sighed. "And now that I think about it, Heero was probably was right too," he answered quietly, his eyes lifting to meet the blue-green ones watching him. "See, where I grew up, Quatre, there was little in the way of emotional or physical comfort, other than that of having another kid's body pressed up against your own for warmth and security. I suppose I've always thought of human touch as giving a bit of myself to another person. It was my way of giving comfort and a sense of security to Heero when things weren't great between us, telling him with my whole being that I wasn't going to fly the coop just because we disagreed. Do you think that was wrong?" he asked, uncertain.

Quatre took in the handsome, bewildered face and placed it between his two hands as he replied. "No, it wasn't wrong. It's just so... you." He smiled again, but the sadness that had been there earlier was still evident. "But Heero had a point; sex doesn't solve any of the deeper problems. After everything is done and the body is sated, the problems are still there."

"Then how can I help you with this?" the American asked, at a loss as to how he could bring the sparkle of happiness back into the blue eyes he now knew so very well.

"Would you believe me if I told you that I'm fine about Trowa?"

"No."

Dropping his hands from Duo's face, Quatre sighed. "What if I told you I was jealous of his happiness. Could you believe that?"

"Jealous?" Now Duo was really confused.

"Did you see how happy he was?" the blond asked. "You'd have to be blind not to, it was radiating off of him. He's in love with his wife and loves his life. He's got everything he's ever wanted. It's all I could have wished for him and more."

"But you love him."

"It takes two people to make it work, Duo. He is more of an acquaintance to me now and I'll do anything I can for him. But he's not mine anymore. He belongs with the circus and with people who love, respect and will take care of him. He's in a good place."

"So are you, Quat," Duo said, brushing the golden hair back from the other man's handsome face. "You've got a job, or rather had one," he frowned at the reminder that Quatre had quit his job because of him, but continued. "You've got a family who loves you, the Maguanacs who are devoted to you, and every person on every colony is infatuated with you. What more could you want? You have everything any one could ever have."

"But I don't have you, do I?"

Duo's heart sank at the soft spoken words that were tainted with pain and disappointment. "You have me right now," he answered. "Can't that be enough?"

Strong hands suddenly grabbed hold of his upper arms and quickly removed him from off of Quatre's lap and set him firmly on the seat beside him. The blond then stood and shoved his hands into his front pant's pockets, looking agitated. "I don't know if it can be, Duo. I played at being happy for so long, smiling for my sisters and the flash of cameras, that I almost made myself believe that I was happy - and then you came back into my life. You showed me that I was only fooling myself, that I wasn't really happy at all. And then you showed me that what happiness was, and that I could experience it again, even after all that's happened." Quatre sighed, raked his fingers through his blond hair, then turned pleading eyes to his lover and continued. "But with each moment that I'm with you, every touch, each shared kiss and every time we make love, I lose more of my heart to you." Pained eyes looked down into Duo's apprehensive face. "I don't know that I'll have any part of my heart left when you leave me. I don't know if I can handle losing you, Duo."

"I'm sorry," Duo rushed to say, feeling guilt and sorrow at the pain he was causing his friend. "I should have followed my first instincts and not started this physical aspect of our relationship. I honestly never believed you wouldn't want your memories back or that you could love anyone other than Trowa."

Quatre closed his eyes a moment and as his shoulders slumped slightly, he seemed to have regained his composure and calmed himself. "No regrets," he said, opening his eyes once again, looking more content. "You're coming to me was a gift, Duo. I'll not regret it now or in the future - when you're with Heero."

"But I'll have a few," the brunet said as he lay back on the soft-gold leather sofa, enjoying its supple and cool surface as he lay sprawled across it, a long, sad sigh escaping his lips. Quatre crouched down next to him and studied the handsome profile. Not liking the melancholy look on Duo's face, he decided to do something to change it. Moving carefully, he climbed up and over the smaller man's body to wedge himself against the back of the couch, settling on his side, and positioned himself so that Duo's head came to rest on his shoulder. He began to caress the other's face, feeling the slight stubble coming to the surface. "I don't want you to have any regrets either," he whispered. "Let's just be grateful that we both were able to help each other in a time of need."

"But my leaving is going to hurt you," Duo replied, the internal struggle he was having could be heard in his voice. He was torn between the love for his friend and his duty to his lover still on Earth, living in a state of ignorance of his situation.

Quatre's hands wove through the burnished brown hair. "Ultimately, I want you to be happy, just like Trowa. If it means you need to be with Heero in order for that happiness to come to fruition, then I'll do all I can to help."

"I'm sorry..." Duo began, feeling he could never apologize enough for the hurt and sadness he might be causing his lover by leaving him. But his continued attempts at expressing his regrets were stopped when two fingers were placed over his mouth.

"At this end of this short vacation from work," Quatre began in a calm voice, "I'll give you the information Rashid sent me. I got an email from him just before we left and he sent a brief preview of what he'd gathered. It contains Heero's, or rather Kai Ozuka's place of employment and the address and photos of his residence. There's also a site plan of each and a detailed outline of his fairly predictable schedule. Rashid even managed to slip a homing device into the collar of Kai's jacket and a listening device into his bedroom. There's a transcript containing a week's worth of relative silence, other than a T.V. in the background and a few phone calls."

Duo lifted his head to give the blond a questioning look after the last bit of information. Quatre answered it. "Seems that behind closed door things aren't what they appear in the supposedly happily-ever-after marriage of the Princess of Sanq and her bodyguard husband."

A perverse smile grew on Duo's face, then he threw his head back and laughed out loud. "Serves her right," he said, his eyes bright at the thought of Relena's scheme backfiring on her. "She's getting some of her just desserts. I hope she's miserable." Then throwing his arms around the other man, Duo hugged him tightly. When he pulled back, there was a look of excitement in his eyes that Quatre hadn't seen since their reunion several months earlier.

"Why don't we go now, Quat? Let's go to Earth together. We can visit Rashid and stay with him until you get your apology from your sister so you can return to work."

The blond shifted and turned his eyes from the happiness radiating off of his companion to stare at the shuttle's ceiling above him. "I'm afraid that's impossible," he replied, a frown returning to his face. "You see, part of my agreement for being only partially Integrated was that I would never return to Earth. Rashid, because of his devotion to me during the war, is no longer able to come to space. We're physically separated from each other for the rest of our lives."

Duo frowned. "We never used to follow the rules, Quat. If you really wanted to sneak off to Earth, you know you could to it."

The blond shook his head in denial of Duo's claim. "They embedded a locator chip into my hipbone. It will send off an identifying and locating signal if I ever enter Earth's atmosphere. I'd try to have it removed, but the doctors said they would be alerted if it was tampered with."

There were several moments of strained silence between the two, broken when Quatre continued. "I'll have a shuttle available for you to use when you're ready to go. I'd really like it if you'd stay with me for the remainder of this week, though. Can you do that for me, Duo?" He turned his head again to see Duo studying him, propped up on his side and looking down into his face. "Will you let me have this last week with you by my side?"

"I didn't..." Duo stopped his apology after receiving the glance of weariness from the other. "Anything for you, Quatre; I owe you so much. You've healed me in so many ways that I can never really repay you." He brought his hand up to brush the soft blond hair, so silky as it fell through his fingers, back and away from the eyes he found so beautiful. "I do love you, Quatre, even though my heart belongs to Heero," he whispered as his emotions rose to the surface along with the heart-felt sentiment. "You're my best friend." Lowering his head, he kissed the lips he'd come to know so well since their first night together.

They took their time as their lips and tongues intimately danced and their hands undressed each other in an unhurried manner while caressing each other's bodies, touching everywhere and taking in the feel and scent that was unique about the other man as they both continued down the familiar path leading to shared passion.

Duo wondered briefly at the languid pace of their lovemaking. It appeared to him as if Quatre was memorizing the curves and dips of his body, and his tongue lapped at his skin as if relishing it for the very last time. His lover's movements were slow and methodical, causing his own body to respond, yet he kept it controlled, not willing to have their lovemaking end too suddenly. And for his part, Duo noticed the smoothness of Quatre's shoulders, the muscles that bunched as the blond moved above him, his arms flexing as they were braced on either side of his body. He noted the small triangular patch of blond hair in the center of Quatre's sleekly sculpted chest and the softness and perfection of the pale skin. He ran his hand over the slender waist and firm buttocks, appreciating the strength just below the surface. "You're so beautiful," he whispered in Quatre's ear, and was pleased to feel the blond's body react to the soft words, bringing more pleasure to the both of them.

"You are like the desert sun, Duo," Quatre whispered back, his breath warm and inviting on Duo's neck. "All warmth, blindingly brilliant and life giving. You are the center of my universe."

Tears came to Duo's eyes at hearing his friend's feelings for him. The depths of Quatre's love was humbling, and he felt guilty all over again for not being able to return that love as Quatre clearly craved for him to do. He knew he couldn't be as poetic as the Arabian, but he knew he had to try and speak what was in his heart for the other man. In a choked voice, he replied, "If I am your sun, then you are the moon and the stars, lighting the darkness that's been my life for the last three years." He gave a shaky smile and added, "And you know how I've always loved looking at the moon."

A smile grew on the blond man's face a moment before he lowered himself onto the smaller man, their mouths and bodies joining together once more, expressing their feelings for each other in a way that words would never be able to convey.

Continued Soon

Note - Thanks to all reviewers. You're the pat on the back that keeps me going.

Question: I'm working on a new story but can't remember some pesky details. Can anyone tell me if Muller is blond and Walker brunet, or is it the other way around?


	18. Only A Day Away

**Integration**

**By: Bane's Desire**

**Part 17**

The two young men remained an extra day on L-1 after their visit to the circus and took in the colony's renown Japanese Gardens, located in the city's center, and ate the reputedly best Japanese cuisine found in space. For the next six days they shuttle hopped from one colony to another, taking in the sights and making the most of the time they had left together

Their visit to L-2 was short. The colony was improving but still in a dilapidated state compared to colonies that had fared better during the embargo years imposed by one Earth government or another. Disguised, Duo took Quatre to the former site of the Maxwell orphanage, and with tear-filled eyes, related to him the sad tale of the only family he'd really had and how they were destroyed by the Alliance in order to serve as an example to the L-2 rebels.

On L-3 they visited a Spanish night club featuring flamenco dancers. Both were surprised by the din caused by feet pounding rapidly into the wood floors and the castanets that clicked out an accompanying harmonious beat.

Returning to the newly rebuilt L-5, Quatre took him to the famous Chinese Dynasty Museum that featured the history of that colony's ancestry and displayed rare silk garments worn by ancient ancestors, art and artifacts that had been crafted by talented men and women on print or a pliable material, taking the forms of nature or even of dragons painted, tooled or carved in jade. In remembrance of Wufei, they visited the L-5 memorial, a shrine tiled in marble with the name of all the citizens of from that colony who had been destroyed to preserve the path to peace. They recognized the Chang family name on many of the tiles and the both of them realized just how much their former comrade had lost in that one space battle. It was no wonder that Wufei had readily accepted the terms of the Integration; it certainly was one way to deal with just a tragic past, one fraught with so much loss. With his memories wiped clean of the incident, the orphaned Chinese teen could lead a life without the constant reminder that his battle with OZ had destroyed all he'd known and loved. After having that sobering experience, the two disguised men strolled the colony's streets, finding themselves in a restaurant where they stopped for their evening meal. Both were delighted to find the quality of the Chinese food was unsurpassed by anything they'd had before.

They returned to L-4 at the end of their week together, both a bit apprehensive as to what would happen next. Stepping into the dark apartment, both young men noted the chill of the room that seemed to match the iciness that was beginning to seep into their hearts as their time with each other ran out.

"Lights on," Quatre said, and the words had their usual immediate effect as the room was illuminated. Duo took their bags to the bedroom while Quatre went to the vid phone to scan through the listed messages.

"So, did your sister call?" Duo asked, coming back into the room.

"I received nineteen phone calls from her and you got three," the blond said, turning his head slightly to smile back at Duo as he came up behind him.

Putting his chest against the taller man's back, the brunet set his face against the other's shoulder and wrapped his arm around Quatre's waist. "You gotta make sure she does some major sucking up before you give in and go back to the office," Duo said in a half-teasing yet serious manner.

"I think twenty-two calls to apologize is a good enough start," Quatre replied, then turned within the other's embrace to face him, wrapping his own arms around his smaller lover.

"You gonna call her back now?"

The blond let a long sigh escape his lips. "Tomorrow. After you've gone."

Duo had made the decision during the week to take a commercial flight to Earth, not wanting to draw any undue attention to himself that might come with him showing up at a customs terminal on Earth in a private, Winner-owned shuttle. With that decision made, Quatre arranged and paid for passage for the day after they returned to L-4. The shuttle, leaving late the next morning, would take Duo back to Earth, to the Najd shuttleport in central Saudi Arabia. Further arrangements had been made for a driver to meet him at the shuttleport and take him to Rashid's home in Al Jabayl on the Persian Gulf. The senior Maguanac accepted the charge of seeing to all of Duo's needs and help him secure a new I.D. and transportation to Brussels, where Heero lived with Relena and worked for the Preventers part-time in their technical division. At other times, Relena's spouse was required to travel with her as a member of the Sanq royal family and a spokesperson for pacifism.

The good mood that had been with them for the week they'd spent away from the apartment dissipated with each moment following their docking at L-4. Both men were finding it hard to accept that this was to be their last night together. They'd mutually agreed to not speak of any regrets or apologies, and so the silence between them grew. Speaking of their past was becoming as painful as thinking of the unknown future, and so they said little at all.

Now locked in each other's arms, they paused in the embrace for several long moments more. Quatre was the first to step back, and when he did, he took Duo's hand in his own and gently tugged on it. "Come with me," he said.

Leading Duo to his study, Quatre went directly to his desk, the light spilling in the open door from the hallway provided their only light. There, on top of the desk's surface, was a large and thick envelope. At quick glance, Duo saw that it was boldly addressed to Quatre and that it had come from Saudi Arabia. Quatre picked it up and with a slowness that displayed his hesitation, he turned it over to his soon-to-be ex-lover.

"This is all the information Rashid collected on Kai Ozuka. I'm sure he has everything in there that you need to plan your approach."

Duo took it from him with an air of gravity that he rarely displayed. He looked down to see the envelope was sealed; Quatre hadn't opened it to view the contents himself. Lowering his hand, he closed the distance between them and put his free hand behind Quatre's neck to pull him down for a kiss, knowing that this information would send him on his way in the morning and how that knowledge was hurting the other man. The kiss was long and slow, leaving both young men breathing a bit more heavily when they parted.

"Thank you, Quatre," Duo whispered, placing his forehead against Quatre's, their breath mingling together. "For everything."

The blond nodded, the hair on his forehead rubbing against the brunet's fringe of hair. "I'm going to get ready for bed. Why don't you look over the information and come join me when you're done."

"Alright," Duo replied, then stood still and watched as Quatre turned and left the room, disappearing out of the door.

Sitting down at the large desk, Duo turned on the lamp, set on the left-hand corner of the large desk. He carefully opened one end the envelope and tilted the it so that the contents slid out onto the desk top. He gazed at the report folder with several colored tabs that separated the neatly organized information that was the key to his future happiness.

Feeling both nervous and excited, he opened the cover and noted the first tab was titled, Subject's Personal Information. He skimmed over the material reporting the day and time of Kai Ozuka and Relena's wedding as well as the couple's already-known background history. Of course it didn't reveal Kai as being Heero, or the accomplishments of Wing Zero's pilot during the war, but stated the carefully crafted, Integrated past that was far from the truth. He let his eyes wander past the photocopied articles proclaiming the happiness of the couple deemed by the public in general as a perfect match.

He jumped to the next file regarding Kai's employment. Everyone who picked up a magazine or watched the news was well aware that he acted as his wife's personal body guard, but the information listed on the copy of the official-looking Preventer letterhead stated all of Agent Ozuka's accomplishments within that organization. A chill went up his spine as he noted the high praise from agents Fire and Water. He recalled that Agent Fire had been the person who was over Scott Mercer and, if his dead, ex-lover was to be believed, agent Fire had either allowed the situation with Scott to come about, or he simply turned a blind eye to the situation gone bad. Duo frowned, a crease forming between his eyes. He decided that, after he had Heero on his side again, he'd see to this Agent Fire, and make sure the unknown bastard paid for all the misery he'd endured from Scott Mercer's hands.

Shaking off the mental image of his revenge, Duo turned back to the folder. The next section reported Kai's daily activities, documented over a three week period of time. It seemed to him that, in some ways, the Integration had accomplished what he'd failed to do during the time spent with his lover, to relax his rigid standards. Heero now lived his life like a scripted, predictable routine, something that he, as a terrorist, was careful not to fall into. To the perfect soldier, being predictable meant setting yourself up for imminent capture or death.

Scanning Kai's daily routine, he noted that he left the home he shared with Relena at precisely seven thirty a.m., Monday through Friday, to either go to the Preventers' Headquarters or to Relena's office located nearby in a swank, high-rise office building housing the Earth and Colony government offices. Her post there was mostly that of a figurehead, her role as part-time peace ambassador and lecturer on Pacifism or Sanq's history warranted her a nominal office near the bustling government center.

Each work day, Kai Ozuka took his lunch at twelve fifteen, walking alone or with other Preventers and patronizing five selected restaurants, each one visited on the same day each week. The names of the restaurants were also listed, as were the food items Kai selected on a regular basis as well as the people he lunched with. Duo's eyes widened as he noted Chen Wong's name along with Milliardo Peacecraft. He realized he shouldn't be surprised that the three seemed to be friends, after all, their Integration was supposed to link the six of them together in some way. With the failure of his own Integration and the corruption of Quatre's, he'd kind of thought that, at least to some extent, everyone else's would also be screwed up. Evidently it suited Relena's purposes to let Heero have contact with two other fellow gundam pilots.

Reading further, Kai left the office at five thirty each weekday evening, give or take fifteen minutes, and he promptly returned home to share the dinner with his wife at seven thirty in the formal dining room. The lights in his bedroom came on between nine and ten p.m., and he usually spent the hour making phone calls, watching T.V. or reading before the room darkened.

Kai's weekends were less regimented, spending some of his free time home, working on computer systems and escorting his wife to various social functions. There was one occasion during the three week time when he spent part of the weekend with Wong and Peacecraft, who apparently shared a large home on the outskirts of Brussels. The relationship between the two Preventers was fairly well known by their working associates, though it was not publically displayed.

Duo was not totally surprised with that bit of information. He hadn't known of Wufei's sexual preference during or after the wars, only that he'd been married very young and widowed shortly after. He'd gotten some hint that he might be involved with Peacecraft when he'd observed them at the Chicago airport. There was just something about their body language that spoke of a shared intimacy. He was glad to know that his instincts had been right, at least in this case. Duo felt a great sense of relief in knowing that he could now let go of his worry for Wufei. It seemed as if his former comrade had found fulfillment in his job and had a personal relationship that appeared to be flourishing. He no longer needed to fret that his friend had also been screwed over by the corrupt procedure of Integration, where doctors were willing to change a person's future, much to the subject's detriment, and all for a fistful of credits.

It appeared from the information before him, that unlike Quatre and himself, Heero was fully re-Integrated. The perfect soldier he'd known would never have set his life into such a mundane and routine pattern. Heero had drilled it into him during the war that such a routine was dangerous. Yet now, that very predictable life he'd made for himself, would help him to confront Heero with the truth of his life and reunite them.

The next section of the folder displayed typed dialogue from the listening device Rashid had managed to implant in the couple's home; yet another glaring variant from Heero's former security-conscious self. Any place he and Heero had ever stayed: a hotel, shack or safehouse, had been carefully swept for any tracking or listening device each time they returned to it. That Rashid was able to place the device in his bedroom and the fact that it had stayed in place for the three weeks truly spoke of the lost conditioning that had always been an intrinsic part of Heero's personality.

From the few conversations that were captured, it was obvious that Kai and Relena had little to say to each other. The recorded conversation during the evening meal, which was served at the same time each day that they were home, had Relena usually speaking of her day at the office or passing on gossip she'd gotten from her friends, Lucretia and Dorothy, about everyone else in their social circle. She would ask Kai about his day and he'd report to her of the various systems he was working on and where he'd had lunch that day and with whom. The conversations, written in script form on paper, seemed formal and stilted to Duo as the couple spent a few minutes each day going over the schedule for the following day or the weekend.

After Heero left for the gym in the evening, there was only Relena's phone conversations that were picked up on the hidden microphone.

Rashid's report went on to state that Kai and Relena shared separate bedrooms and that during the three weeks he'd listened to their conversations, he deduced that, during the time of the surveillance, the couple had never shared a bed.

With hope brimming in his heart, Duo turned to the next section and found the floor plans of the home Kai and Relena shared as well as an over-all look at the Preventers' building with Agent Kai Ozuka's office clearly marked.

Glancing at the desktop clock, Duo realized he'd been sitting there for over an hour. Closing the folder, he carefully slipped it back into the envelope it had come in and rose from his chair and shut off the desk lamp. Tucking the information under his arm, he made his way through the room, lit only by the light streaming in from the hallway through the open door. He went quickly towards the bedroom knowing Quatre would be waiting for him and that they would momentarily be making one last memory of their final night together. As he walked through the large apartment, turning out lights as he went, he found himself feeling torn between feeling anxious to leave for Earth, where he was going to be reunited with Heero, and the sorrow he felt at leaving Quatre behind, especially knowing his friend was going to be hurt by their parting.

Opening the door to the bedroom, he found a forest of candles, their small flames flickering in the otherwise dark bedroom and softly illuminating the large bed where Quatre sat, his back resting against pillows pushed up against the headboard, his chest bare and his lower body covered only by the satin sheets. His smile was welcoming and warm, and that, in and of itself, was something that Duo had always appreciated from the other man, an open acceptance that Quatre had always given him. The envelope was set on the dresser and dismissed from his mind as shoes were toed off and clothing was discarded in a deliberately slow and seductive manner. Duo also wanted to make this night memorable, and with the blond man's eyes drinking in his every movement, he decided to put on a good show.

Once completely free of his clothing, he moved forward and Quatre pulled back the champagne colored satin sheet, inviting his lover to join him. With the coolness of the bedding on their heated skin, the two men, now well acquainted with each other's bodies and responses, began their lovemaking with the intent to take it slow and make it last as long as possible.

It was a few minutes after midnight when the two sweaty, sated bodies separated, and then only for the need to clean up. A few minutes later, they embraced once again in the center of the bed, and held onto each other as they dozed off into a sleep that was neither restful or restorative.

Xxxxxxxx

Standing silently, side by side, at eleven forty-five a.m. the next morning and under a sign that labeled Boarding Gate 15, the two parting lovers found that any words of farewell they should be saying were reluctant to be voiced, especially being surrounded by other passengers who lounged around them in the seating area while waiting for the expected boarding call.

Quatre looked as his companion, a small smile coming to his face. "I can't believe you look as good as you do as a blond." He eyed the newly bleached out hair that Duo had chosen to sport in order to disguise himself from easy identification by Earth's custom officials.

"I look better as a blond than I do with hair as black as Wufei's," Duo replied, thinking of the numerous hair colors and styles he'd used to hide his true identity. "And I really don't pull off red well." He ran his hand through his hair, now even longer than it had been when he'd arrived on L-4 over two months earlier.

"I miss your braid," the blond whispered, looking at the nearly white hair.

"Me too." They shared a brief, sad smile.

"Are you going to grow it out again?" Quatre asked.

"I don't think so, at least not as long as it was. But I have to admit that I do like it longer; I just liked how it felt. Maybe I'll let it grow past my shoulders." He shrugged, then gave the blond a crooked grin. "I can save a fortune on haircuts by letting it grow."

Currently disguised in a black wig and dressed down in jeans and a t-shirt, the blond felt free to be more bold in public than usual. He reached up his hand and ran it through Duo's blond hair. "I like it long, too," he said thoughtfully, his eyes, focused on Duo's, expressed more of his longing and sadness than his words could at the moment. "It's so thick. I could spend hours running my hands through it." And he had. His blue-green eyes watered at the thought that he would never be able to run his fingers through Duo's hair again. "Blond from a bottle suits you," he added.

"A blond in my pants suits me even better," Duo teased, then sobered at the look of hurt that crossed Quatre's face. "I'm sorry," he rushed to say and embraced his friend tightly. "Our time together has meant much more to me than just great sex, Quat, and you know that," he whispered in the other's ear. "You've been a great friend, the best ever and a fantastic, healing lover. You'll always have a secured place in my heart."

The disguised man stood back and studied Duo's face, memorizing it as much as possible. "I want you to remember, Duo, that if things don't go as planned, if you need to run and hide or to retreat, you can always come back to me. I'll wait for as long as I can before I give into the need to find someone to fill the hole in my heart your leaving is creating. I won't go colony playboy again," he smiled sadly, "but I now know that I need to have someone special in my life, someone to love. You've shown me what I can have with someone, Duo, and now I think I'll always crave it."

Duo was at a loss for words, not knowing what he could possibly do or say to make his friend feel better. The long-awaited and dreaded boarding call sounded over the sound system by a deep, male voice, breaking up the awkward moment and leaving few words of goodbye left to be said. "Please, be happy, Quatre. As happy as I'm going to be once I'm with Heero again."

"And I do wish you all the happiness in the world, Duo," Quatre said, rushing to say what he needed to express as people around them began to queue up to enter the shuttle. "Your being here has helped me, more than you can know. Now I know I can love again, and I'll probably always long for you whenever I think of the time we've spent together. It hurts now, but I know it was worth it."

"Love you, buddy," Duo whispered, giving the blond man a last embrace before he turned and more or less fled to the boarding gate. He didn't have the strength to turn around and see if Quatre was watching him leave; he knew he was. He just couldn't bear to see the look of hurt he knew was on the handsome face, that wasn't how he wanted to remember Quatre Rababera Winner. He chose instead to remember the beautiful blond man as he had been that morning, when he woke up: the blond tousled hair falling gently over the smooth forehead, soft, sleepy-blue eyes that opened to greet the new day, and the gentle smile on his perfectly shaped lips a moment before he was kissed good morning. That was how he was going to remember his best friend.

Xxxxxxxx

The ten hour trip to Earth passed by without a hitch, and Duo barely remembered it from the numb daze he'd slipped into once the shuttle left the L-4 dock. Once again his feelings and concerns for Quatre clashed with the excitement he felt at the idea of finally being reunited with Heero. His heart was battling the grief at leaving one friend behind and feeling joy about the days to come.

His hair and eyebrows were bleached almost white. He and Quatre had done it just that morning, matching the photo fixed into his travel visa. He was dressed in expensive clothing, and looked the part of a rebellious son of a wealthy colony family being sent to Earth to attend college, and that was his story if asked by officials regarding his visit.

Quatre had arranged for him to be met at the spaceport by one of Rashid's daughters to back up the story for his travel, of leaving L-4 and visiting family friends in Saudi Arabia before beginning the next term of school. Once they arrived at the Maguanac's residence, he and Rashid were to collaborate to work out details on how to approach Kai and bring about the return of Heero's memories and freedom.

After the shuttle's landing, which was smooth and seemingly effortless, good enough to impress the former pilot, Duo successfully made his way through customs and played his part perfectly of the rich and arrogant young man, too full of himself to waste time on official matters. With his papers passing inspection, he soon found himself standing in the air-conditioned terminal and looking through the sea of dark-skinned people, dressed in light colored clothing. He was well aware that he stood out like a sore thumb with his fair skin and bleached hair, not to mention his tailored clothing. At least, he thought to himself, his contact would easily be able to spot him.

Not one minute had passed after he exited the customs room before he was faced with a smiling girl with skin the color of rich, dark caramel, hair as black as space that was pulled up into a knot at the back of her head. She had big brown eyes that sparkled with youthful enthusiasm and he guessed her to be around seventeen as his eyes scanned her entire appearance, taking in her petite frame and curves of a young woman. She was dressed in a soft lavender skirt that fell straight from her hips to the top of her ankles and, over a short-sleeved, white and fitted blouse was a draped, diaphanous shawl, the exact same color as her skirt. He noted the small white and yellow embroidered flowers scattered on the edges of the skirt and shawl that added a touch of femininity to the girl's appearance. But above all, it was the girl's white dazzling smile, so like her father's, that identified her as the person he was supposed to meet.

"Mr. Sullivan?" she asked, using part of the name Rashid had been told he'd be going by. Her smile, still in place, told him that she knew full well he was the person she was to bring home.

He nodded. "And you are?"

"Jasmine Rundalla," she answered with a slight bowing of her head. "If you will please follow me, I have a car waiting for us just outside."

Readjusting his shoulder bag, Duo motioned for her to lead the way, then walked close to the girl's side as she led him though the busy terminal towards the entrance of the building; no words passed between them the entire time.

The moment he stepped out of the protected environment, a blast of dry heat assaulted him. He gasped, and spent a long, drawn-out moment struggling to breathe in the hot, dry air.

"This way, Mr. Sullivan," the girl said, taking hold of his arm and pulling him forward to a long white car, sitting in the no parking zone.

A large man, looking like a member of the Maguanacs Duo had met during the first war, jumped out of the driver's seat and rushed to open the door for the two young people rapidly approaching.

The cool, air-conditioned interior of the car came as a welcome relief to him as he breathed in the cooler air with gratitude. The drastic change in temperature and lack of humidity, that was always present in the colonies, came as a bit of a shock to his body. "How the hell do you people live here? I can hardly breathe!" he gasped after the driver entered the car and shut the door, letting the cold air coming from the vents cool the interior even more.

The girl sitting next to him smiled shyly and shrugged one delicate shoulder. "I suppose you just get used to it," she replied. "My father told me that he'd had a hard time adjusting to the environment in a colony when we visited them after the first war. He said it was cold and the air humid inside those structures. I suppose the extremes between our Earth, or rather, my home, and the colonies would take some time to adjust to."

Duo nodded and wiped away the moisture on his upper lip that had formed in a matter of seconds in the hot, arid climate of Saudi Arabia. "I lived on Earth for a while and when I went back to the colonies, it did take me a couple of days to get acclimated to the humidity caused by the environmental controls. But I forgot how damned hot it was here. Last time I visited, it must have been your winter, because it wasn't this bad." His heart pricked at the memory. His first visit to this part of the world had been just after Heero self destructed and Quatre had found him hiding in a desert sandstorm and had taken him in and become his friend. Who knew then how much the two would come to depend and care about each other?

He hoped his smile at the girl didn't reveal the quiet ache in his heart the memory cost him. "And do me a favor and call me Gray, alright?" He decided he liked the name he'd taken on L-4, Grayson Williams, and he'd stick to the first name until he took flight with Heero, then they'd both have to come up with new identities again. Quatre had come to call him Gray in public and while they were at work, and he'd liked the sound of it coming from his friend and lover's lips. He supposed he'd developed a sentimental attachment to the name because of it, and was finding himself reluctant to let go of it until he absolutely had to.

"How's your father?" he asked, feeling the need to keep some polite conversation going.

"He's well." The girl's smiled showed she was pleased by his inquiry of her father. "But he misses Master Quatre. Is he truly alright? Last time they spoke to each other, my father said Master Quatre seemed very sad."

Guilt jumped up and stomped on Duo's stomach. No doubt he was the source of Quatre's unhappiness, and he was desperately sorry for it.

"Are you alright, Mr... I mean, Gray?" the girl asked, looking concerned. "You don't look very well," she added.

"Just tired from the shuttle trip," he answered, berating himself for not schooling his emotions better. It seemed that being around Quatre, even for such a short period of time, had broken down some of his former defenses, his masks.

"Why don't you rest then," the girl suggested. "We have about an hour's drive ahead of us."

Duo nodded in agreement. He didn't know if he would be able to sleep or not, but he would welcome the chance to avoid any further banal conversation. Taking the jacket that had been slung over his sleeve, he folded it up to form a make-shift pillow, then situated it between the back seat of the car and the door. Laying his head on it, he welcomed the goose bumps that were forming on his skin, finally cooling from his few moments out in the one hundred plus temperature outside. He promptly fell asleep, missing miles and miles of monotonous desert landscape consisting mainly of sand and rock.

It seemed as if he'd only been asleep a few minutes before Jasmine woke him with a gentle shake of his shoulder. He reluctantly left the cool temperature of the car to rush inside the grand house that had the appearance of being crafted from the desert sands itself. The pebble-like stucco exterior matched the color of sand perfectly and the tall date trees that surround it, giving the area some shade, gave it an over-all appearance of being a desert oasis.

Then Rashid was standing in front of him, his massive arms encircled Duo's smaller frame easily. "Welcome!" the older man's voice boomed, then stepped back, releasing the young man in order to get a good look at him. The large smile on the man's face dropped a fraction as he spoke. "Somehow it just doesn't seem like you, Master Duo, without that brown braid of yours."

Duo shrugged, ignoring the feeling of loss he felt whenever he was reminded about his once long hair. "Some things have to be sacrificed for the sake of freedom," he answered.

Rashid's face softened further as he looked fondly at the young man. "I had come to believe that I would never see you again, Master Duo. I'm glad that belief has now proven to be a waste of my time."

Duo smiled back. "I am too, Rashid. I am, however, sorry about your separation from Quatre and that you're forced to stay dirt side. I know that in many respects he's been like a son to you."

"It has been... difficult," the tall man replied, a touch of sadness on his face. "But if it was the price to pay for his freedom, well, it's like you said, some things have to be sacrificed for the greater good. But come," he smiled grew once again, clearly dismissing the conversation that was clearly becoming uncomfortable for him, his white teeth were glaringly bright against his dark skin. "I have food awaiting us and a family anxious to hear about Master Quatre."

The remainder of the afternoon that marked the first day of his return to Earth, was spent in happy conversation with Rashid and his family, who were indeed eager for any news or stories about the young Winner male heir, an intricate part of their lives before and during the war.

It was later that evening, after the sun had set and the cooling desert was granted a short reprieve from its brutal heat waves that Rashid brought Duo into his study and until the wee hours of the morning, they studied the information on Kai Ozuka that had been gathered by Rashid for Duo's benefit. They put their heads together and formed strategies designed to find a workable plan and timetable regarding his approaching Heero and then bringing Duane Hannible to Brussels in order to have him begin his work in trying to restore Heero's memory to him.

Early the next morning, Duo placed his call to Duane's cell phone. After a few minutes of greeting each other, the older man assuring him that he and Debra had not been found out, the former gundam pilot alerted the hypnotist that the time had come for his services to be put to good once again and gave him an approximate time when he should be ready to leave Chicago. With a sigh of relief escaping his lips as he hung up the phone, Duo felt that the wheels of change were at last in motion to finally and justly return what had been taken from him.

**Continued soon**


	19. We Meet Again

Warnings and Disclaimer on page one, plus some of you will probably say, _ah-ha_, I knew it!

**Integration**

**Bane's Desire**

**Part 18 - We Meet Again**

The well-known public figure of Mr. Kai Ozuka arrived home from work an hour after his wife had left her downtown office. Relena had recently changed her schedule, going into work an hour later than usual and leaving for home an hour earlier. The change was a good one, he decided, for the both of them. It meant that he took his own car in to and back from work, giving him a bit of time to himself each weekday. A fleeting thought came to him that it was too bad she didn't know how to cook or clean a house so that the extra time home would be of some benefit to her also. During the years that his wife had been raised in the Darilan household, those daily mundane tasks had always been performed by hired help and Relena didn't see the need to change that way of living now that she was married.

He entered the front foyer and was met by their maid, Esperanza. The gray haired, middle-aged woman greeted him in the same polite manner she did every evening, asking if he'd had a good day and that his Mrs. was awaiting him in the family room.

Kai knew without asking that his wife was watching the news channel and that her legs would be curled up on the couch with a lap robe draped over them. Sometime his life was so predictable that he could pull his hair out with the frustration of it. There was some part of him that cried out for... something. He didn't know what exactly, but it was definitely something he didn't have and he craved it. Maybe he' settled down too young and this yearning he had was for a more carefree life of travel and fun, something he'd never really had. He'd been feeling this way for a long time now, though he couldn't quite pinpoint when it had begun. After he'd met Relena at the university, he thought that being with her would help sate that needy part of him; but it turned out that the former Queen of the World and all her money and high-class living still wasn't enough. She'd convinced him that he would feel more complete if they married, and promised that she would do whatever she could to make him happy. He had wanted to believe her and so he'd agreed to Relena's proposal and married her.

Maybe there were no true happy endings.

The sense of wholeness he'd hoped would come after the marriage had taken place, unfortunately, escaped him. He realized too late that he probably shouldn't have married his best friend, that he married too young and for the wrong reasons. Perhaps, if he'd finished college and traveled as a single man with his friends, he might feel more content as a husband and as a man. But such wishes were like feathers flitting about in the wind and just out of reach, he concluded. He couldn't exactly say he was happy, but then neither could he say he was unhappy. Relena knew this about him for they spoke often of personal things, and to her credit she was doing everything in her power to hold the two of them together.

Kai walked towards the room, hearing the sounds coming of the television streaming out of the family room as well as the fragrant smell of the food cooking that would be their dinner. He took in a deep breath to prepare himself for performing the task that was the nightly ritual required of him. Entering the room, made more comfortable for relaxing than any other place in this museum of a house, he found his wife sitting exactly where he knew she would be and with the familiar blanket on her lap as predicted.

"Kai!" She smiled warmly at him in greeting as he entered the room. "Come sit by me. There's an interesting news report tonight about a merger between Bechtel and Sund Corporations that could affect our stockholdings. They're also trying to dredge up some ancient battleships found in the Bermuda Triangle. I'm sure that's something that would interest you."

He was too young to be living like an old man, he thought. He nodded and dutifully went to sit in the spot next to his wife that she'd suggested with the mere pat of her hand on the sofa. He sat glumly during the news program as Relena leaned heavily against his shoulder and schooled his overwhelming feeling of boredom until Esperanza called for them to go to the dining room for their evening meal.

When at long last ten o'clock rolled around, bringing to Heero a sense of relief that the night was finally over, the two of them stood from their places on the sofa with the intent of retiring to their rooms. With Relena holding onto his arm, they made their way upstairs, turning the lights out and setting the security alarm as they went. Once up the stately staircase, he led his wife to the master bedroom.

"Will you sleep in my room tonight, Kai?" she asked, a hopeful look on her flawless face.

"Relena," he said her name with strained patience. "We've been over this hundreds of times. Please, don't push it."

She frowned. "I just wanted to cuddle" she replied, pouting. "I wasn't expecting anything else, although I can always hope."

Kai frowned as he huffed out a short breath of air. "You and I both know your hoping is a waste of time. You knew when you asked me to marry you that I was gay, Relena. Did you think that once we lived in a house together that I would miraculously turn straight?" he asked wearily. They'd had this conversation too many times to count.

"You're my best friend, Heero," she said sincerely. "I just thought that over time you'd grow used to the idea. That you'd give it a try."

"I think we both remember the time I did try and it was a disaster." He looked at her wearily and continued, "I've done my best to try and make you happy and to do whatever you've ever asked of me, Relena. Even though I've fallen short of your expectations, I've given you all I can. Can't you be happy with that?"

The petite woman with blonde hair that curled just above her shoulders put her arms around the handsome man who was her husband, who really did try his best to make her happy. "There's more to love than sex, Kai, and we both love each other, right? I've done everything I can to make you happy, too. I know you're not entirely content, but I won't give you up. I've sacrificed too many of my principles to let you go."

The dark-haired young man pulled away from his wife. "You've alluded to that sacrifice more than once, Relena. I'd like to know what the hell that means."

Relena looked startled for a moment, like she'd unwittingly placed herself in a trap. She smiled nervously at her questioning husband and answered, "I would appreciate it if you didn't curse, Kai, it's unbecoming. But to answer your question, I suppose I've sacrificed my idea of a happily ever after. I never envisioned we'd end up like this, married and living together, but only as friends, never to be lovers. But I'm committed to this relationship, and I think I've proved it, so don't ever doubt my devotion to you."

Kai knew he wasn't going to get the real answer to his questions from her. He'd learned early in their marriage that his wife could be diplomatically evasive when she didn't want to show all her cards. With a huff of disappointment, he decided it was time to call it a night. "I'll see you in the morning," he said, then kissed her cheek, turned, and walked towards his own room several doors away.

Stepping through the door to his bedroom, he felt a sense of weariness overtake him that was more than physical exhaustion. He flipped on the light and closed the door behind him, then turned and stopped short at the sight before him. Sitting in the bay window of his bedroom, one knee raised while the other leg casually draped over the edge, was another person, a young man who looked to be about the same age as himself with white hair that contrasted starkly with his all-black clothing. Large, stunningly-beautiful eyes on a pale, oval face turned to meet his own and his body immediately reacted to the other man in a way that was highly unusual and uncharacteristic of him.

"Who are you and what do you want?" he asked, his voice stern but low. In his mind, he was trying to decided if the handsome man in front of him was an apparition of his imagination or not.

The other man turned his body, set both of his feet onto the carpet and stood. Kai's eyes went up and down the dark-clad body, finding the slender build appealing as he watched with growing interest as the stranger walked slowly towards him, noting that his stride seemed graceful as well as damn sexy.

"Hello, Heero," the husky voice said, and Kai detected a bit of nervousness in its tone. As the mysterious person drew near, his eyes were drawn back to the handsome face where he could clearly see the man's emotions swirling in those incredibly expressive eyes.

"Who is Heero?" he asked, unable to take his eyes away from the approaching vision.

"You are."

"And who are you?" he asked, wary but intrigued.

"Someone who loves you."

The Japanese man instantly went on the defensive. "What do you want and how did you get in here?" he challenged.

"Heero," the other man whispering the unfamiliar name with such longing now stood only a foot from his face. He raised a slightly trembling hand towards his face, but in seeing the look of warning in his eyes, he hesitated and then dropped it. "I came in the back door this afternoon when the maid took out the garbage. I mean you no harm, and if you'll give me a few minutes, I'll explain what I can and then ask if you want your memory back."

"My memory?"

The white-haired man nodded. "Have you ever heard of the gundam pilots?" he asked.

"Of course," Kai answered impatiently, unsure of this strange, alluring visitor and of what he wanted. He wondered for a moment if Relena was safe, if it was possible that this man was a diversionary tactic to keep him from protecting her. But that train of thought was broken when the mysterious stranger spoke again.

"And do you know what happened to them?"

"Their memories were erased and they were Integrated here in Sanq and sent to live out their lives with new identities," he answered. "What does that have to do with you being in my bedroom?"

"You were one of them, Heero. You were the pilot of Wing and later Wing Zero. You saved the Earth from a total ecological disaster and saved millions if not billions of lives when you blasted a huge chunk of junk from the destroyed ship Libra as it fell into Earth's atmosphere."

The Japanese man frowned. "You're wrong. I grew up here in Sanq with my family and friends. I know who I am and I'm certainly not a gundam pilot," he replied hotly, clearly demonstrating his irritation at the suggestion.

"Those are your implanted memories, Heero. You were Integrated, along with the rest of us and Milliardo Peacecraft, formerly known as Zech Marquis. You have the mark behind your ear that proves it. Our memories weren't wiped out as we thought, just pushed back behind the new identities. The things you now recall from your childhood are like a movie script, it's all a fabricated tale of a life you've never had."

"You're lying," Kai growled angrily. "Why are you saying these things? What's the purpose of telling me such a story?"

"Because I was a gundam pilot, too," the other man said quietly, his eyes softening and imploring the other to believe him. "You and I were comrades during the war who became friends and then lovers. Together we fought for peace and freedom for the colonies and then for the right to be together after the war. When it looked like war might break out because Earth and the Colonies couldn't agree on what should be done with us, Relena came up with the idea of us being Integrated that seemed to make everyone happy. We made an agreement with the government to undergo the Integration process but only if they promised in return that in our new lives you and I would still be with each other. They agreed, Heero, but they lied." Kai watched as anger and sadness warred for dominance in the man's beautiful eyes. "Through mere chance, I broke through my Integration, twice. The first time I did I found out that Relena had instigated a change in our new identities. She bribed the doctors with her money and influence and put herself into your memories instead of me. She's always wanted you, Heero, even when you told her that you were gay and in love with me. She was upset by our being together and it made her angry. She managed to keep that from you, though I was usually the recipient of her scorn when your back was turned. With the Integration, she saw a way to separate us and make you her own, and she succeeded in doing that by bribing the doctors. That is, she did until I accidentally got my memory back."

Kai stood in place, pulled into the story the other man was telling him. He didn't know if it was the truth or a lie, but the sincere and earnest expression on the other man's face showed true emotion at the telling of his tale.

"I got my memory back and then I managed to get one of the doctors to bring yours back also. But Une, who was my guardian at that time, turned us in. We were separated again and this time they made sure we had distance separating us. My second Integrated life included a Preventer overseer in the form of an abusive lover. With the mental triggers set to cause me excruciating pain if I fought back or tried to leave, I was trapped with no way out. It was hell, Heero," the slender man said, the anguish in his eyes told Kai that he was telling the truth. "And again, by some miracle or fluke, I got my memories back. Since that moment all I've ever wanted was to come to you, to free you from your false life so we could be together like we were always meant to be."

Kai felt transfixed as a single tear coursed down the other man's smooth and soft-looking cheek. "So my life, as I remember it, is false?" he asked, feeling confused and overwhelmed by all the implications that came with the other's story.

"You are Heero Yuy," Duo choked out. "You came from colony L-1 in a gundam designed by Dr. J. Your life wasn't easy, Heero, and your training was harsh, but we were happy together. I guess what I need to ask you at this point is whether or not you want your true memories back. I've got the person who helped free me from my Integration coming into town in a few days and he can open your mind, if you want him to help you."

The dark-haired, blue-eyed man looked into the other's eyes, confusion churning in his own. "You're telling me that Relena instigated this, my marriage to her and your unfortunate circumstances?" He looked doubtful and felt conflicted between believing this man's story and his own memories as he stood before the other man, trying to reason everything out. Somehow, what he was hearing felt right and wrong at the same time. "You said she did this because she wanted me and the Integration procedure was the only way she could have me?"

"She did it for no other reason than she was infatuated with you and that she envied what we had," the white-haired man replied. "She wanted you from the first moment she laid eyes on you when we were fifteen and chased you all over the planet and even up into space, regardless that we were fighting a war. When she learned of your sexual orientation and that we were together, she changed tactics, saying she understood and just wanted to be your friend, but I could see she had other ideas. Yet you seemed to like her and I didn't want to look like I didn't trust you to make your own decisions about friendship. It was those feeling of trust and friendship that caused you to accept her invitation to stay with her as you recuperated from being injured during the Barton Incident, and later brought you to accept her suggestion of being Integrated. I didn't want to do it, Heero, but I also didn't want to live my life without you. You persuaded me it was for the best, for peace and the colonies, and that we'd still be together. It was probably the biggest mistake I've ever made in my life."

The two men stood still, looking at each other at only an arm's length away. Then the white-haired man spoke again, his eyes pleading. "It feels like the cruelest torture to be so close and not be able to touch you," he said softly, a look of longing on his face. "I followed you for a full week and watched you from afar, but now that I'm in arm's reach of you, it's almost unbearable not to hold you."

"Can you prove any of this?"

The man in black nodded and reached into the back pocket of his pants and took out a slightly bent photo of the two of them at a noticeably younger age. "I thank my luck y stars over and over that I was distrustful of the Integration procedure. Before they'd begun to suppress our memories, I stashed some of my more personal belongings in a safe-deposit box. Now, four years later, the few things I'd hidden away will serve their purpose." Kai noticed the other man's hand rose to his neck where his fingers delicately touched a cross that hung from a gold chain, hinting that it was one of the things that he'd left behind.

Looking back down at the picture that had been placed in his hand, he asked, "When was this taken?" Kai studied the photograph of the two teens standing close together and smiling. He could clearly see that it was himself and the other man standing in front of him in the photo, taken years before. He studied the person who was supposed to have been his lover. Though the long brown braid of hair that graced the other boy's head in the photo was gone and the color had been dramatically changed, his face was relatively the same and still undeniably handsome.

"In June, AC 197."

Slowly Kai raised his head and eyes to meet the other's. "I don't remember this being taken," he said, "or you."

"That's how the Integration works. The doctors block your past memories and replace them with false ones. The family that you remember never even existed. The memory of their loss was fabricated in order to explain their absence in your life."

Kai felt more than a little disturbed at the continuing answers to his questions. "It's illegal to aid an Integrated individual in regaining their memories," he stated.

The blond man laughed quietly, his eyes swimming with emotion. "It's pretty clear the Integration didn't get rid of your pragmatic and suspicious mind."

"So I was a gundam pilot and gay, even then?"

He could see his question gave the other man hope, and it was true that he was beginning to believe what he was being told when he asked such a question. "Yes," the other answered firmly.

"They can't erase being gay, can they?"

"Apparently not," the other shrugged. "Although one of our friends was in a relationship with another male during the war, he's now with a woman, which leads me to believe that he was bi before the Integration. I'm pretty sure Relena would have done her best to bribe the shrinks to try and rid you of that nasty habit."

"If she did, it didn't work," Kai replied with a derisive snort.

"Your marriage to Relena isn't all that she hoped for?"

Kai shook his head in answer to the question. "I told her when she proposed to me that I was gay, but it didn't deter her. I think she believed she could cure me."

"Heero," the black clad man's voice was low and husky as he took a half step closer to him, their eyes never leaving each other's. "Let me give you your memories back, then we can leave here and live our lives together, just as we always planned."

Kai's eyes lowered as the male siren spoke and focused on his lips. Having sees a desperate need in the other's face and knowing that the other man desired his touch and shared his orientation, he leaned forward and kissed him.

Oooooooooo

At first, Heero's lips were soft and responsive, but as Duo persisted in getting closer, bringing his arms up and around his lover's shoulders, holding onto him for dear life, Heero responded and opened his mouth to the questing tongue. Duo's heart was pounding so furiously that he thought it might work its way right out of his chest or cause him to faint. He was overwhelmed with the feel, taste and touch of the other man and the physical realization that this was his Heero whose mouth was interlocked with his own, and Heero's body that was pressed up closely against his after so long. He was overcome with the feeling that he'd finally come home.

A choked sob escaped his throat and Heero pulled back to study the tear-tracked face. Duo could actually see himself in the reflection of the deep blue eyes that he'd never get tired of gazing into, and in them he saw what Heero was seeing; his love blazing brightly from his face. But as he refocused his gaze, taking in all of Heero's face and his expression, he saw the predominant emotions of confusion and sympathy written in every line and crease of the caramel-colored skin.

"I'm sorry," he managed to say. "I know that right now I'm a stranger to you, but you have to believe me, Heero, that what I've told you is true. You told me that you loved me and only me. You whispered it in my ear every time we made love and every time we were forced apart by circumstances beyond our control. I've clung to those words since the moment I got my memory back, and once your Integration's broken, things will be as they should have been."

Not able to resist the need to touch the face that had haunted his dreams and waking moments for over half a year since he got his memories back, Duo brought his right hand up to gently run his fingers over his lover's bronze cheek, feeling the late-night stubble along Heero's jaw line. Through eyes still slightly blurred by tears, he took in the changes in the Japanese man from when they'd last been together, noting the boyish face that was forever locked into his memory had matured and formed into that of a devilishly handsome man. "I've missed you so much," he choked out, then tried unsuccessfully to reign in his exposed emotions.

Then suddenly Heero's mouth was on his again and the kiss they shared was passionate and consuming. Strong hands were touching him everywhere, exploring the contours of his back and roaming over his hips. He was overwhelmed by Heero, the taste and scent of him, his kisses and touch effectively short circuited his common sense and ability to think.

He wasn't aware, as their mouths and hands were busily engaged, that they had moved to the side of the bed until the backs of his thighs came up against the mattress. He stood numb and hungry for more kisses as his shirt was pulled out of the waistband of his pants and then as Heero's cool hands roamed over his heated skin.

He allowed the other man to lay him back on the bed, unable to refuse Heero anything. A faint whispering from his conscience warned him of Heero's intentions as deft fingers unfastened the front of his jeans. If the rational thought came to him that the man undressing him didn't have Heero's memory, it was taken over by the rising passion that roiled within him. For so long this was all he'd ever dreamed of.

Then suddenly Heero's mouth and the warmth of his body were gone. Opening his passion-clouded eyes, Duo scanned the room to seek his lover out. He found him standing at the side of the bed.

"Undress," Heero said softly. "I need to get something from the bathroom."

Duo nodded, unable to form a coherent reply as he watched Heero turn and move towards the door he knew from his earlier inspection was a private bathroom.

The whole situation seemed unreal to him as he moved in a daze to take off his shoes and socks, then slipped his pants off and folded them neatly. The simple action brought back thoughts of Quatre, how he would neatly fold his clothes before they fell happily into bed together, even if they were headed for the dirty-clothes hamper. He quickly turned his thoughts from the past to the present and fumbled with clumsy fingers to unbutton his shirt while listening to the sounds coming from the direction Heero had disappeared to moments before.

He knew that he was putting a lot of faith in someone who didn't know who he was, well, other than what he'd been told, but he needed this; he needed Heero. He'd seen the dark passion stirring in his lover's deep blue eyes and he had no defenses to fight against it.

Stripping off his jeans, shirt and the t-shirt he wore under it, he sat on the edge of the bed, suddenly feeling very vulnerable sitting with only his boxers on as he waited for the other man to return. That feeling lasted only until the bathroom door opened and Heero emerged completely naked, aroused and armed with lube and a condom.

Duo rose on unsteady legs to meet him, unable to look anywhere but at the beautifully sculptured body approaching him. Then Heero's lips were on his own again, taking command of his mind and body again. He was vaguely aware that his boxers were being lowered, and as they pooled around his ankles, he stepped out of them a moment before Heero nudged him back onto the bed.

He was being consumed, he thought, as Heero's lips explored his heated body, his hands making him desperate for their joining. He'd missed this. Heero could make him come apart so easily only to put him back together again, and it seemed to him that time, space and even a loss of memory hadn't diminished that ability.

Every thought that was rational or reasonable faded as fingers slick with gel began to prepare him for the long-awaited union. He was afraid that in his excitement that he'd come too soon if Heero didn't hurry. His slurred words urged his lover on and then he held his breath as the two of them eased into becoming one once more.

Once he was fully seated, Heero lowered his mouth to capture his lips and with the shifting of hips, their lovemaking began in earnest.

It ended much too soon for Duo, but their joining together after so many years had been as satisfying and memorable as he'd dreamed it would be. He whispered his lover's name and spoke of his undying love for him as his body began to calm and cool down. His heart was once again safely entrusted to the person he loved above all others.

The two men managed to clean up a bit with the tissues that were on the bedside table before Duo tucked his body up against Heero's side to luxuriate in the afterglow of their lovemaking. He fell asleep with a smile on his face for having the touch and scent of his lover following him into his dreams.

Ooooooo

A shake of his shoulder brought him out of his sleep, and with bleary eyes he looked to Heero who was sitting on the edge of his bed, dressed in boxers and a t-shirt. The small reading lamp set next to the bed was on, illuminating the darkened room with a soft golden glow. He couldn't stop the smile from growing on his face, realizing the events of only a few hours before hadn't been a dream. "What's up?" he asked, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes.

Heero smiled gently at him and brought a hand up to brush several strands of hair away from his eyes. "You're beautiful," he said in a reverent whisper. "Thank you for last night."

Duo returned the smile as he caught Heero's hand and placed a tender kiss on it. He was surprised when Heero gently pulled it away, out of his grasp.

"It's almost dawn. You should probably go before the housekeeping staff arrives."

Still a bit disoriented from waking up in a relatively unfamiliar room with Heero, Duo nodded, vaguely understanding that Heero didn't want him to be there when the staff and especially Relena woke up. He eased his body out of bed and began to put on his clothes.

As he tied off his shoes and came to his feet once again, he looked at Heero, now wrapped in a dark blue robe as had been moving about the room, tidying it while he dressed. "So when can we meet again?" he asked, careful to keep his voice low. "My friend comes into town in three days. I could give you directions to my hotel room and you could come there and we'll begin to get you back your memory."

"No."

Though the word was spoken softly, almost apologetically, it sent a cold shiver of dread up Duo's spine. "What do you mean?"

"I don't want my memories tampered with," Heero replied, turning to look at him with a look of determination in his deep blue eyes.

Duo's heart almost turned to stone in his chest. "Don't you believe me?" he asked, trying to sort out the situation in his head.

"I believe you," was the other's reply. "I've see the Integration mark."

"Then I don't understand. Why don't you want to remember your past, remember us?"

Heero reached up and massaged the bridge of his nose for a moment before answering. "Because of who I'm married to I'm well known and a fairly recognizable public figure. My picture has been in most newspapers, magazines and television all over Earth and the Colonies. If I tamper with the Integration and run to escape the consequences of breaking the law, we'd spend the rest of our lives running and hiding. That's not how I envision living my life."

"But we'd be together, Heero," Duo pleaded, his heart tripping wildly in his chest as the feeling of dread became overwhelming. "We'll disguise ourselves. Sure, it might get sticky at times, but we fought a war and made it past insurmountable odds. We can do it, Heero. We can do anything if we just stick together."

"I thought about it while you slept and I've made up my mind," Heero said, a tone of resolution in his voice. "Now will you please go before I'm forced to call the authorities."

Duo's face reflected the horror he felt. Not in all his dreams did he imagine Heero refusing him. "No, Heero. Please, don't do this," he begged, anguish in his whole demeanor. "You're everything to me. I don't know if I can go on without you."

The dark blue eyes studying him almost dispassionately throughout his pleading, softened at his obvious distress. "If you had come to me three months ago, I might have taken the chance. I'm strongly attracted to you and I don't doubt your word nor sincerity when you say we loved each other. But I can't. Things have changed."

Duo's mind raced as he tried to figure out a way to turn the situation around. "Are you happy with Relena? Do you love her?" he asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer, if he could bear it.

Heero sighed and ran his right hand through his dark, short-cropped and messy hair. "I don't love her in the way a lover or even a husband should," he began. "But I care for her. As for being happy, I suppose I've grown comfortable if not a little bored with my life."

"You would choose those inferior feelings over true love?" Duo asked in disbelief and a choked voice. "'Cause that's what we had and could still have."

The other man shook his head and looked surprisingly regretful. "Relena's pregnant. We haven't told anyone yet, but she underwent the procedure of having my sperm inseminated into her eggs and implanted into her uterus. I'm choosing a future with my child over a life of running as a hunted criminal."

Duo's heartbreak was complete and devastating. How could he argue his case against an innocent baby? He buried his head in his hands and desperately fought to hold himself together, just until he could reach his hotel room.

"I'm sorry," Heero's voice was closer now, and Duo couldn't force himself to look up at him. "Will you be alright? Do you have somewhere to go? Do you need any money?"

The concern in Heero's voice sounded genuine, but it seemed to only cause more pain. Turning aside, Duo brushed off the hand that touched his shoulder. He was angry and sad as well as damn frustrated and hurt. He was shaken enough by Heero's rejection that he wasn't sure what to do with himself at that moment. Raising his grief-stricken eyes to meet Heero's apologetic ones, he realized that this was probably the last time they'd ever see one another.

"Don't worry about me, Heero. I've come up from the ashes before and somehow survived. I just want you to remember this moment in your life, one that you won't ever forget. If there was ever such a thing as soul mates, that's what we are. You had a choice and you let the greatest love of your life go. I hope you remember that as your years of being Relena's puppet crawl by. I hope you never forget that she's the one who manipulated you into this farce of a marriage and me into a life of pain and degradation. And even now, she's effectively caged you in and successfully separated us with her pregnancy. I can't wish a child any harm, but I can't wish you happiness either. Just remember, when your nights are long, cold and empty in your private bedroom where you sleep all alone, that you refused the greatest gift of all."

The words spoken in anger brought a pained look to Heero's face. "I disarmed the security system for you," he said in a tight whisper.

With one long, last look at the man who had owned his heart, and probably would always be a part of it no matter how much he'd hurt him that night, Duo turned and silently left the room and house of Kai and Relena Peacecraft-Ozuka.

**Continued soon**, and the fat lady sings at the end of the next chapter.


	20. Life Is Good

**Integration**

**By: Bane's Desire**

**Part 19 - Life Is Good**

With a hat covering his blond hair and sunglasses hiding his recognizable eyes, Quatre Winner waited at the shuttle terminal, gate seventeen, where the ship arriving from Earth was in the process of docking. He stood virtually unnoticed in the faded jeans and t-shirt Duo had bought for him several months earlier with the rest of the people awaiting for the arrival of the shuttle's disembarking passengers.

His excitement equally matched his anxiety as the first of the passengers began to trickle through the doorway. He waited several minutes, ignoring the happy reunions occurring around him, his eyes fixed on the portal. His breath hitched as he caught sight of Duo, carrying his travel bag slung over his shoulder and walking lethargically into the brightly-lit room.

Quatre pushed through the crowd to get closer, his heart beating wildly within his chest as he saw and felt Duo's anguish. "Gray," he called out, using the name he always used in public when addressing his lover.

Duo turned his way and his sorrowful eyes rose to meet his own. Those eyes, whether happy, sad, filled with passion or tears as they were right now, could command anything of him and he would do all in his power to see it done. Rushing forward, Quatre felt almost desperate to touch the other devastated young man.

Rashid had called him two days ago and informed him that Duo had returned to his home, his heart crushed by Heero's refusal. Duo had asked the fatherly Maguanac to contact him to see if it was alright for him to come back to L-4. Rashid had put him on the first available flight.

Finally reaching the bleached blond, Quatre didn't hesitate to pull him into his arms and hold Duo as close to him as he possibly could. If he had his way, he would never let go of him again. His own emotions at their reunion were strong and varied, similar to those of the man in his arms. His heart ached for Duo's hurt and disappointment but he couldn't help but count himself the luckiest man in the colonies, for the person he'd fallen in love with so completely the moment he'd touched him a few short months ago had returned to him.

"I know it hurts, Duo, and I'm so sorry for it, for everything. Are you ready to go home?"

Duo's head nodded against his shoulder. Gently turning him and placing an arm over his shoulders, Quatre guided his returned lover towards the terminal's exit doors. He could feel from the simple touch that in the two weeks he'd been gone Duo had lost weight and he vowed to himself that he would do everything in his power to help the other man be happy once again.

Exiting the building, they approached the black sedan parked just to the left of the building's entrance. Amir stood guard, leaning casually against the shiny black surface with his arms crossed over his impressively large chest. In seeing the two approach, he quickly straightened, opened the car door and held it until both young men were safely inside, then promptly shut it. With the dark-tinted windows and the partition between the passenger seat and the front of the car in place, the two young men found themselves alone.

Once the car began to move Duo turned his body around to bury his face in the blond's neck. "Oh God, Quat," he choked out, his barely suppressed emotions no longer willing to stay in check.

"Shh," Quatre whispered as he wrapped his arms around Duo's slender body and held him firmly while gently rocking him. "It's going to be alright, Duo. I promise. I know just how you feel, and I also know that it does get better over time." He then placed a kiss on top of the white-haired head.

"Hurts so bad," Duo said, sounding lost. "Ya know, in the short time I spent with him, he didn't even ask me my name. I told him about our past together and what he meant to me, and he wasn't even curious enough to ask for my name."

"I so sorry, Duo." Though he knew his replies were not really helping, the blond didn't know what else to say or do to ease the other man's pain. "When you're up to it and if you want to, I'd like you to tell me what happened." Rashid was unable to fill him in on what had happened to Duo while he was in Sanq, other than the fact that he successfully met with Kai Ozuka then came back to his home an emotional wreck.

Duo nodded, then sniffed back the tears that had refused to stop falling from the moment he'd left Heero's room.

The two men who had both lost the men they'd loved almost beyond reason remained in a tight embrace, one seeking comfort and the other trying to give it. As the city streets they passed by went unnoticed, it was Quatre who finally broke the silence between them. With one hand rubbing Duo's back and the other combing through his white hair, he knew he needed to say what had been in his heart from the moment he'd gotten the phone call that Duo was coming home. Taking a deep breath, he put his heart in his hands, prepared to offer it to the man in his arms.

"I know I'm not the lover of your heart, Duo," he began trying not to show how nervous he felt, "nor your first love, but if you'll allow me, I'd like to be the person to love you for the rest of your life. Maybe we're not what you would call soul mates, but I love you from the depths of my soul and I know that to some extent you love me, too. I'm willing to be patient and wait for as long as it takes for you can fall in love with me. And even if you don't, just knowing you love me in some small way now is enough for me to what to be your lover, your safety net and your friend. I promise you, Duo, that I'll never leave you, that I'll do everything in my power to make you happy and never intentionally hurt you. I want to be everything to you Duo, just as you are to me. If you're willing to give me a chance, I'd like to give us a try."

Duo pulled back his head and slowly lifted his red, watery eyes, and Quatre saw the lingering traces of his sorrow in those blue-violet depths. "I know I'm not the love of your life either, Quat," he answered in a broken voice. "And that I'm probably not your best choice of a companion, considering my past, but I do love you. Maybe not like I love Heero, but look where that's gotten me." He sniffed and accepted the handkerchief the blond pulled from his jacket pocket and handed him.

"Maybe love that burns the hottest and brightest isn't meant to last," Quatre said solemnly, thinking of the love he'd once had for Trowa and how hard it had been to let him go.

"Do you think what we feel for each other will last?" Duo looked unsure of himself, almost fearful of the other's answer.

A soft smile graced Quatre's handsome face as his hand reached up to stroke his lover's cheek. "I do. In fact, I'm determined to see it last. It was hard enough to say goodbye to you once, I don't ever want to do that again. We've both loved and lost, and I think that experience will make the both of us a bit wiser this time around. I know it's going to take time for you to heal, Duo, but if you'll let me, I'll be here for you every step of the way."

Duo's eyes searched the other man's, looking for proof that his words were true. Then seeing that... something in the blue-green orbs, he leaned forward and brought his lips to Quatre's pliant, accepting ones. The kiss they shared was sweet and tender and somehow different from the more passionate, playful and even desperate ones they'd exchanged before. This one was more like a first kiss, one that signified a beginning.

Pulling back, Quatre watched a slow, heart-melting smile grow on Duo's lips even though the hurt in his eyes was still present and tears rolled unchecked down his cheeks. The expression caused the blond man's heart to constrict painfully in his chest as he brought his hand up to gently wipe away the tracks of Duo's tears. Following his intuition and knowing the other man quite well by now, he knew what Duo's fears were and that he needed to address them. With all sincerity he said, "I swear to you that I'll never hurt or leave you, Duo. You'll never be left behind again."

Duo reacted to his vow by pressing himself snugly against him, calming somewhat but still holding tightly with a needy grip. They sat there for a few moments, each lost in thoughts of the future and the past. Quatre thought that maybe they should start talking about the future to help Duo take another step away from his painful past. "So what would you like to do tonight?" he asked as he rested his cheek on the top of Duo's white-haired head. "Anything special?"

There was a pause before the other man answered, his words coming out slow and thoughtful. "Hmm. How about we... go for a swim, order in some food and then talk about redecorating the living room."

A sudden feeling of happiness filled the blond, causing a radiant smile to form on his face. He closed his eyes as he rubbed his cheek against Duo's bleached hair, feeling unspeakably happy. The other man's suggestion was as good as Duo saying that he'd accepted his offer. He clearly recalled a past conversation where his lover had commented that if he was going to stay with him for any length of time, they'd have to change the harem-like decor. Duo was going to stay, and in that delirious moment of happiness, he vowed to himself that he would do everything in his power to make him the happiest man in the solar system. And now that he had the prospect of having Duo as his own, he'd make sure that the other man would never have a reason to leave him again. "We'll have our happily ever after yet, Duo," he said, earning a hopeful smile from his lover as the car pulled up in front of the familiar apartment building that was their home.

**EIGHTEEN MONTHS LATER**

Identical packages arrived at the separate residences of Debra Davis and Duane Hannible. Later that evening, after both people arrived at their homes, located in different areas of Chicago's suburbs, they carefully opened their identical packages that were post marked Saudi Arabia. Peeling back the protective brown wrapper they each found a book titled, _Memoirs of a Street Rat turned God of Death_, that had been the hottest topic, only in literary circles, but in all areas of the press. The book, having made headlines when the Sanq government had gotten word of its existence and that a major publishing company was in the process of printing it, tried to have it legally blocked from distribution. They lost their bid in court as the judge declared the contents of the book did nothing to subvert the strictures of the Integration process and the laws of secrecy attached to it since the events described within its pages occurred before the Integration of the individual known only as the Pilot of the gundam Deathscythe, or Pilot 02. Printed on the back cover of the book was the publisher's pledge that the profits gained from the sale of the book would be donated to the L-2 Orphan's Fund since the author was unaware of his former identity under the Integration.

Many excerpts of the book had been printed on the Internet and were endlessly hashed over by television and talk radio hosts, so much so that almost every person on the planet and in the colonies knew many of the private thoughts and deeds of the boy terrorist. The book gained sympathy from many and condemnation from others. Regardless, it broke all retail records as the pilot who'd written it had gained notoriety from his tragedy-filled life on the streets of L-2, his being found by the engineer of Deathscythe and then his coming to Earth as the God of Death. The written account, reportedly sent to the boy's friend for publishing and distribution at a later date, was frank, open and outraged many with the confessions of the fifteen year old boy's love affair with another pilot.

Both Chicagoans knew some parts of the story, and that the author could be no one other than the young man they'd once helped. Each recipient opened the front cover of the book to see identical handwritten messages penned in blue ink.

'_Even though things don't always go as planned, life is wonderful. Thank you for everything. I'll never forget your kindness_.'

Though it wasn't signed, both of them knew who had written it and that they didn't need to worry about him any longer.

000000000

Kai Ozuka sat cross legged on the right side of the large bed. A soft blue sheet that needed to go to the laundry was loosely draped over his nakedness as he went through the Sunday paper. He held up the several-page section that was titled Colony News and his eyes were drawn to the bold printed caption on the front page, but it was the sharp-focused, color picture beneath it that had captured his attention completely. 'QUATRE WINNER JOINED IN A LEGAL UNION TO CO-WORKER,' the title of the article declared. Heero stared at the faces of the two men in the picture, with his attention drawn to one in particular; a brunet with thick, straight and shoulder-length hair. The angle of the picture offered only a side profile shot of the fortunate young man as he gazed lovingly up at the taller and recognizable blond man at his side. Kai recognized that profile instantly, even though the young man's appearance had changed somewhat. The man he could only remember meeting once before wore small, tinted glasses that brought the eye away from the slight, turned-up nose and no doubt helped to hide the color of his unforgettable eyes. He was certain that he was looking at the missing gundam pilot, the highly attractive young man he'd found in his bedroom, the one he'd made love to and then turned away.

His life had never been the same after that one-time encounter. Shortly after that night, he'd gone to his cousin and his lover, both of them high-ranking officers in Preventers organization. Even though he was taking a risk, he confessed to them about the mark behind his ear, needing someone to confide in. He was shocked to learn from that disclosure that they also bore the same mark, having discovered it on each other early in their relationship. They knew what the marks meant; that they were three of the five people that had been Integrated in Sanq; that they had been former gundam pilots.

Kai was surprised to learn that even with that revelation, nothing had changed in the lives of other two men. Chen, his so-called 'cousin', and his lover, Milliardo, had been more or less content with their lives, being dedicated Preventers, so they simply acknowledged to each other that they weren't exactly what they had formerly believed, and left it at that. Kai, however, hadn't felt the same level of acceptance as they had. He experienced an indomitable need to know if all of his surprise guest's accusations had been correct, that Relena had harmed the other former pilot because of her greedy desire to be with him.

Having wrestled with what he should do, he again approached his two confidants. He withheld from them the fact that the missing and presumed dead pilot had come to visit him, that he was alive, but he did urge them to find out more about their past lives. The two men, with access to many inaccessible Preventer files, took their private, covert investigation further to discover who they had been before the Integration.

Together, the three met at Milliardo and Chen's home, going over the temporarily pilfered files. Kai had learned that he had formerly been known as Heero Yuy, pilot of Wing and Wing Zero, originally from L-1, just as Duo had said. He also learned that Duo Maxwell, pilot 02 of the gundam Deathscythe, had come from colony L-2 and had been captured by OZ several times during the war. His cousin, Chen, who really wasn't related to him at all, was Wufei Chang, pilot 05 from the destroyed colony L-5, and his lover, Milliardo Peacecraft, had been known by that name as well as by Zech Marquis, an officer in OZ under the tutelage of Treize Kushrenada, and then again by his own name as he took up the reins as the short-term leader of the colonies' militant rebels known as White Fang. Quatre Winner, billionaire business man and reported playboy from L-4, had formerly been known as the pilot of gundam 04, a.k.a. Sandrock, and was the engineer of Wing Zero and the unsurpassed weapons system known as Zero. And lastly, there was Trowa Barton, pilot 03, a child mercenary who had gladly gone to live with the circus amongst a group of people who had sheltered him during the war. Out of the six of them, the reports stated that five of the former pilots were doing well in their Integrated lives; it was the one who hadn't fared as well and was thought to be deceased that had haunted Heero's waking thoughts.

As the three men carefully read over the limited information on the former gundam pilots and the reports of their Integrated lives, Chen's face darkened with a look guilt and remorse. He confessed to them in a quiet voice, filled with remorse, that he'd been the one to oversee the placement of the Integrated pilot known as 02. He'd been unaware at that time that the re-integrated young man had been a former comrade, nor did he know of the particulars of his re-Integration other than he'd somehow gotten his memories back. With a heavy conscience, he claimed responsibility for the atrocious treatment the Integrated man received, something he'd learned about only after his agent's death. He blamed himself for personally selecting the Japanese Preventer who had a good record, volunteered and was more than qualified for the job. He said he'd selected that particular officer for the post in light of the fact that he had no family ties and was eager to take the long-term assignment to be the young man's overseer.

Agent Yannoshi, a.k.a. Scott Mercer, was given the task of befriending subject Phillips, to be a mentor to him while seeing to it that he didn't have an opportunity to regain his memory back. Chen had, under Director Une's recommendation, urged the doctors to add several mental triggers that would keep the Integrated criminal docile and unable to tap into his natural violent tendencies, alluded to on his information sheet.

After Agent Yannoshi had been murdered and the investigation into his death had begun, Chen received a report from the doctor who had been assigned to treat the young Integrated man. He stated the shocking facts of the abuse the Integrated man suffered from the hands of his assigned, long-term guardian. Chen had been sickened by the documented injuries accounted for by the doctor as well as the frequency of beatings and rapes the young man endured, unable to defend himself or run because of the mental blocks that had been put in place. From the doctor's descriptions of Jason Phillips' submissive personality, it was clear that the Integrated man was incapable of murdering Mercer or the other man found in the gay club unless he'd regained his memories back. Chen confessed to the them that he didn't prolong the search for Jason Phillips in the wake of Mercer's death. He'd hoped the young man, so cruelly and unjustly treated, had lived and escaped the clutches of the law. It appeared that there had never been an Integration that was so badly managed.

Similar to Chen, Kai felt an instinctive need to protect the mysterious man that had first told him of his past, and to help keep him from being captured. Duo, as he now knew the man's name to be, had been right. On the long nights that had passed since his visit, he'd recounted their conversation over and over in his mind as well as every detail of their lovemaking. He couldn't deny that his heart had ached at the thought that he'd hurt the other man who'd so openly confessed his love to him and broke down when he was turned away. Yet in his heart, he still felt that turning Duo Maxwell away had been the best decision.

His mind turned to the book written by Gundam Pilot 02. Kai remembered very well Relena's reaction to the news that such a work was in the process of being printed. She'd led the fight against the publishing house from releasing of the books, using the Sanq government as her cover. She even managed to halt its release for a couple of weeks while the judge over the case reviewed the facts presented by both sets of lawyers. She threw a royal temper tantrum when she got the news that she'd lost the case and that the book would be released immediately. She turned to him and forbade him to buy or read the book or to have it in their home. Of course, knowing that the book would probably fill in the gaping holes of his past as a gundam pilot, he'd purchased the best-selling book and along with Chen and Milliardo, read it on the weekends spent at their home.

The story of the orphan boy from L-2 was heartbreaking, as was his re-telling of the burning of the Maxwell Church and orphanage. The boy had lost everything again and wrote of it with such agonizing honesty. But out of the ashes of his grief and despair rose Shinigami when the very young boy was found and by a man called G, who took him under his wing, educated and trained him to pilot the gundam Deathscythe for a mission that what was originally called Operation Meteor.

In the two hundred, twenty-three page book, the gundam pilots remained nameless and were referred to by the numbers OZ had labeled them. Their physical descriptions were sketchy at best, unlike the teen's description of their gundams. Kai thought it was a fascinating insight to the war and from perspective and voice that shed new light on the reasons for it and the repercussions on the young men that fought for the colonies and for peace. Parts of the story were hard for him to read, as he guessed it would be. It had been one thing to hear a quick version of the love 02 had for him during that one night they'd spent together, but reading about it in heartbreaking detail made it real, and he knew many nights of painful regret and sorrow after having learned the full story.

The person laying in the bed next to him moaned slightly as he began waking, breaking him out of his reverie, and he looked down to watch the other man turned over from his stomach to his back, his long black hair falling into his face.

"Morning," Kai greeted him pleasantly.

The other grumbled a similar greeting, then looked around the room. "Where's Mill?" he asked in a gravelly voice.

"Shower."

"What are you doing?" Chen slowly leaned up on his elbows, propped behind him and glanced at the newspaper, the sheet and blanket sliding off his bronze, beautifully-toned body, displaying his naked state under them.

"Reading the paper. Quatre Winner got hitched."

"Really?" The Chinese man took a closer look at the article and the picture. "He hooked up with a guy?" he asked, amused. "Guess the rumors were true after all," he said, peering more closely at the photo. "Hum..., from what I can see, they're both good looking men, aren't they?"

"Yes," Kai answered, his tone neutral as his eyes gazed over the article, stating that the enviable man's name was Grayson Williams, Winner's assistant.

"Well, I'm happy for him," Chen said. "That means the five of us Integrated are happily settled into our lives with only one lost. That's fairly good, statistically speaking."

"One lost," Kai repeated quietly, his memory reverting back to that one night, remembering clearly the person he'd found in his room, the look on his face as he spoke of their past, his expression in the midst of passion. That night had been unforgettable; _he_ had been unforgettable, and a part of him regretted the choice he'd made to let the man go after the other passionately declared that they were soul mates. Hell, he hadn't let him go, he'd told him to go. In the few hours that he'd had to think about the stranger's confession and offer, he thought long and hard about it and in the end, found no rational reason to give up his life, his work and home and not to mention his child for a life on the run. He might groan and complain about his life being less than ideal, but he lived in the lap of luxury and genuinely liked his occupation. They weren't things that were easily given up on a whim and a chance. That decision to stay, including living daily the lie that he and Relena portrayed of the picture-perfect couple, having an ideal marriage, and the long, lonely nights that followed, had led him to approach his so-called cousin with his problem, looking for help, confessing his false relationship with Relena and the need for a discrete outlet for his... needs. Chen's solution came as a surprise.

As for Relena, she had her job, which had become her life. He'd been disappointed in her when, just days after she'd given birth to their daughter, Sarah, she'd hired a nanny and went back to her office. No doubt his growing estrangement from her led his wife to seek out her own happiness and she found it in her work.

Relena sensed him withdrawing further from her and had tried to get him to talk about the reason for it, but what could he say that wouldn't compromise Pilot 02's anonymity? He'd put the other man in danger if he told her that he now knew who he was and what she'd done to the both of them for her own selfish reasons. All he could think to do was to distance himself from her and make do with a bad situation.

The one shining light in the mess that was his home life was Sarah. Kai loved his daughter, but, unfortunately, she spent most of her time in the care of the nanny who dutifully bathed and tucked into bed before he returned home in the evening. It was sad, he thought on many occasions, that he'd told Duo he had chosen a life with his daughter over love only to learn that his daughter was destined to be raised by hired strangers and whisked away to boarding schools when she turned ten, a tradition in Relena's family.

Unlike Relena, who seemed to accept their odd marriage and his cool indifference towards her, his loneliness became too much to bear, the nights were too long and the future gaped before him like a large black hole where there seemed to be no hope for happiness in sight.

After telling Chen and Milliardo of his problems, they convinced him to join them on the weekends in their spacious, high-security home whenever he could break free from his wife and duties. They had argued, convincingly, that it would be a beneficial arrangement to the three of them if he would join them in their very large bed whereby his loneliness and need for a safe sexual outlet would be satisfied; and he had to admit that it had been. Not only was the sex great, but the other two men truly cared for him, were discrete, above suspicion by the press because of Mill and Chen's established relationship and the public belief of the false information that Chen was his cousin.

Looking up from the newspaper, he watched as Milliardo stepped out of the bathroom, a pristine white towel wrapped loosely around his trim hips while he rubbed another towel against his wet hair. "Shower's free," he announced in a deep voice that was incredibly sexy. Then walking toward the bed, the blond stopped next to Kai and bent at the waist to kiss him, his mint flavored tongue dominating the smaller man's mouth. He pulled back and smiled wickedly before leaning over Kai's legs and gave his lover an equally passionate kiss that lasted just a tad longer.

The Japanese man pulled the newspaper out from under Milliardo's body as the two men continued their morning greeting. His eyes lingered on the picture, specifically the profile of the handsome man he could have spent his life with. He felt a great deal of relief that the L-2 pilot had landed on his feet so well. Quatre Winner was not only wealthy and influential, but from the gossip circulated in the newspapers it was reported that he was genuinely kind and generous to a fault.

He momentarily wondered if Winner had his memories back. He knew from reading the reports that Pilot 04 had a partial Integration, that his family wanted him to carry on as heir to the family empire, and in order to do that he needed to know who he was other than being a gundam pilot. It didn't matter to him whether Quatre Winner had gained his memories back or not, but it was a little more than suspect that two former gundam pilots would end up together.

He mentally laughed at himself for that thought; wasn't he involved with two former comrades himself?

Turning his attention once again to the picture in the paper, he ran a finger down the photographed face of the brunet, remembering how it felt under his fingertips. Goodbye, Duo Maxwell, he whispered to himself, I wish you the best. He then quickly folded that section of the newspaper and tucked it under his pillow. He'd hide it from the other two because he didn't want to take the chance that they'd study it and possibly recognize the other pilot and feel duty bound to arrest him. If there was nothing else he could do to make up for the hurt he'd caused Duo Maxwell, he could keep his secret of who he was and where he'd gone.

With a playful grin on his face and a wicked gleam in his eyes, he reached out and abruptly pulled the towel off Milliardo's waist and enthusiastically joined the other two men for a pleasant Sunday afternoon romp, which he'd hoped would help him to forget, if even for a little while, that one pivotal night and the face that had haunted him ever since.

**The End**

**Author blurb**. Okay, I know I ticked off some of you die-hard 1x2 people with the ending of this story. I really did begin this with a 1x2 reunion in mind but as the story progressed it took on a life of its own. In the end, it just didn't make sense for Heero to accept Duo, a complete stranger, and live his life on the lam when he didn't know who Duo was (although he certainly appreciated the package.). To placate the disgruntled, I'm working on another multi-part story, and I promise a 1x2, okay? But I'm still in the process of finishing it, so I'll post it when I can and maybe put up a couple of one shots until then. Thanks for the reviews and support. You guys have been great!


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